


The One Where Technoblade Dies

by not_a_tuna_fish_ish (orphan_account)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Baking, Dry Waters, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fishing, Friendship, Gen, Hunting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minecraft, Nature, Orphan - Freeform, Shipwreck, The Nether, a large part of this is just about tommy, also the major charecter death is for technoblade nobody else dies, angst but it gets better, but there are a few incidents, getting better, i don't think the descriptions of violence are extremely graphic, if you're hear for the dnf content, just know it doesn't come until later in the story, so i tagged it just in case, the first part mostly follows tommy, the woods - Freeform, unless...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 42,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/not_a_tuna_fish_ish
Summary: Tommy's on a cargo boat with his family and Technoblade when the ship sinks. Techno sacrifices his life in order to save the boy, who ends up the sole survivor. What's gonna happen to him?
Relationships: (past), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Niki | Nihachu/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 151
Kudos: 210





	1. Sinking

The ship was sinking. No doubt about it. Water welled up in the below decks and the whole boat was slanted to the side, slowly slipping down into the watery depths below. It was getting harder and harder to stand as the floor got more horizontal, and Tommy had to clutch the railing with his full strength, or else he would’ve slid across the floor and landed in the Pacific Ocean. 

Waves lapped at the floor of the top deck. Tommy could see nobody, so he cried for help. He heard a yell back in response. The voice was familiar, and It was coming from the navigation room! Relief flooded over Tommy. Whoever was in there could help him, he was so sure of it. Hand after hand, he worked his way along the railing until he got in front of the door to navigation. He dropped down onto the door, and pulled it open. 

Inside was Technoblade, looking frazzled and scared, knelt over the radio. It looked like he was trying to hail someone, but was unsuccessful- either because he didn’t know how to work a radio or because the radio wasn’t working. When Tommy opened the door he looked up. 

“Kid!” He cried out, and Tommy ran over and embraced him, the same way you embrace anybody when you’re in mortal peril. 

“What’s happening? Where is everyone? Why is there water below the decks?” Tommy asked, panicked. He knew the answer to these questions, of course, but he didn’t want to believe it. 

Technoblade gave him no confirmation, perhaps not believing it either. Instead he said, “There’s a lifeboat on the port side of the boat. We need to get there!!” Then he took Tommy’s hand and pulled him up out the door, which was now laying horizontal. The two boys scaled up the side of the boat, now sinking very rapidly. Dangling above them was a white lifeboat, swinging dangerously and bumping on the side of the boat. By the time they got up there, most of the boat was submerged. Everything except navigation and a few cargo boxes which were chained to the deck. 

Techoblade grabbed Tommy by the arm and swung him onto the boat. He crawled over to the ropes that held the lifeboat in the air and started undoing the knots. 

“What are you doing?” demanded Tommy, as the horizon rose up higher, “You’re not in the boat! Get in the boat!”

Technoblade said nothing, just kept undoing the knots. 

“GET IN THE BOAT TECHNO,” he yelled, and crippling realization spread across his chest and throughout his whole body. 

“There won’t be enough for both of us, Kid. You have to survive.” 

Tommy choked, his voice now a sobbing gasp, “Techno there is enough. There will be enough. Get on the boat.” It was a plea, a desperate beg, but Techno’s resolve didn’t budge. 

“You have to live!” The older boy cried, glasses slipping off his face from sweat and grief. His fingers nimbly undid the last of the knots. 

“Live, Tommy! Survive! It isn’t over for you yet! It’s not over!” 

Tommy moved to grab hold on Techno, any piece of him, and haul him on board. _They would laugh about this later. This isn’t real. It’s not happening._

But Techno was too far away and Tommy wasn’t fast enough. His fingers missed, and in the same moment, the white lifeboat fell to the surface of the ocean. Tommy was dazed from the impact, but he sat up quickly anyways. He saw Techno standing above him, barely holding on. He looked down at Tommy.

“Tommy,” and he sounded calm, “It’s gonna be okay. Remember that. Fight for it to be okay! KEEP FIGHTING, TOMMY!” 

Tommy opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. All he could see was long pink hair swaying above him. Almost in an instant, the ship went down, pulling Techno with it. A deep blue swallowed him up, with formidable force. He was gone. 

The silence that followed was remarkable. A dazed young boy sat very still, watching the water below him. Wet tears streamed down his face, and still he made no sounds.


	2. The Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pain

Tommy woke up, and it was late afternoon. He must have fallen asleep at some point, although he didn’t remember it. The sea moved calmly around him, rocking him back and forth. The movement must have been similar to a cradle that rocked him when he was a baby, because it soothed him almost inexplicably. The sky surrounded him with warm orange and yellow tones. The sea surrounded him, too. 

The calmness only lasted a few moments, before he remembered where he was and all that had happened. A thought occurred to him, echoing and severe: _My parents were on that boat._

Again, the boy laid down and cried. Can you blame him? He thought of his mother and father, but mostly of his mother. Suddenly, he could not recall a single flaw or bad thing in either of his parents. All he remembered was the good. The way his mother liked to read, and the way his father laughed when watching television. His mother’s embrace. His father’s firmness. He could smell breakfast being cooked in the kitchen, hear the sound of chatter and forks clicking on plates, and for a moment the memory was so vivid he wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination. Opening his eyes, however, revealed the truth. His parents were gone. He was alone, so alone. And stranded. 

The rocking of the sea now felt like less of a loving mother, with gentle caresses and tender movements, and more like the shake of a violent lover. Tommy felt sick, and disgusted. He pulled himself to stand, but found his knees weak. 

He wanted to give up. He wanted to curl up into a little ball and die. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. He lost. 

Techno’s words resonated in his head. _Fight!_ He could hear him yelling. _Fight! Live! Survive! FIGHT!_ Tommy put his hands on the floor of the lifeboat, and moved them down, feeling the smooth wood. His palms found purchase on the floor. _FIGHT!_ Technoblade called. His hair swayed in the wind, when he died. He remembered his mother’s hair. Blond, not pink, but it still looked like Techno’s a little. _FIGHT!!!_ his memory yelled again. He remembered the grip Techno had on him, when they briefly embraced in navigation. He remembered the strength with which they held onto each other, although only for a second. He mimicked that strength in his legs. His knees felt stronger. He remembered Techno’s resolve when he untied those knots, how it could have shook the earth. Maybe it did. He took that earthquake and held in his stomach. He saw how nimbly and clearly Techno undid the rope, although the knot must have been unfamiliar to him. He breathed that clarity into his lungs. Techno yelled in his ears. _FIGHT!!!_ He put that fight in his head. His mother kissed his forehead. At the time, he squirmed away in embarrassment. She fawned over him anyways. He put that love in his heart. He shed tears for his mother. 

And Tommy got to his feet. 

Eyes red and swollen, and his head pounding, Tommy took a good look at the boat. It wasn’t very large, just an above and below deck, not more than 12 feet in length and 6 feet deep. It wasn’t meant for a lot of people, but it must have been meant for more than just one. This thought brought Tommy a spike of pain in his chest. 

Weren’t there other lifesaver boats on the ship? Other survivors? Tommy didn’t see anyone else around when the ship went down. He remembered the name of the ship, _The SMP_. It was a cargo ship, not a cruiser. Maybe that’s why there weren’t many other lifeboats. But still, there should have been at least two. (Tommy would later learn that there were in fact 3, but two of the boats were destroyed when the engine exploded). Techno, Tommy, and Tommy’s parents were the only passengers, the rest were just crew. Why were they all on a cargo ship together? He couldn’t remember. He touched the back of his head and felt a large, swollen, soft spot. It was tender to the touch and painful when he pressed. _Ah, that explains the headache._ He must have gotten that when he fell into the lifeboat. No choice but to carry on, the boy continued exploring. 

Between the shock of the event and the head injury, Tommy could never remember why he was on the cargo ship.

In the below deck he found a case filled with food, water, and basic survival supplies. He wanted to celebrate. Reading the instructions on the packages and doing some quick math, he realized that he had enough water to last him for 40 days, and enough food to last him for 32- if he rationed. There were also blankets in the case, and a compass. A compass! But, what did he know about how to navigate? He didn’t even know where he was. What direction would he head, and how would he go that way? The lifeboat had a set of oars. He could try that- but was it worth it to expend all that energy rowing, when he didn’t even have a heading he could trust? All these thoughts raced through his mind when a sudden bout of dizziness overtook him. He fell to his knees and touched the sides of the boat to ground himself. No luck. His dizziness prevailed, and he trembled scarily. _What?_ It was his head. He had a concussion, and not a gentle one. Most of the time the boy spent on the boat would be spent battling this affliction, as he would soon learn. The boat swayed, not helping his nausea. Peering up over the side of the boat, night crowned his vision. Figuring he might as well try to sleep it off, he bundled himself in the blankets and passed out on the floor. 

\---

Tommy was on that boat for 33 days. He decided against rowing- partially because he had no idea which way to go, and partially because he spent a good part of the 33 days unconscious. The concussion was severe, and the swaying of the boat absolutely did not help him heal. Not to mention he was always hungry, and the conditions were severe. At night the temperatures were freezing. The boy would wrap himself in blankets and shiver the whole night. Although the stars were very beautiful and vivid (which was something that kept his heart warm, not his body). In the day it was blazing hot. He would douse himself in seawater, and be totally dry before even 20 minutes passed. He would be sweltering no matter what he did. Twilight was the only acceptable time to be alive. The temperature would be bearable and the sky would be beautiful. It was almost enough to distract the boy from his suffering. Also, twilight was the time the sea would be simply teeming with fish of all shapes and sizes. Colorful, beautiful, bright! At many times Tommy tried to fish with his hands. But he was always unsuccessful, and it only left him feeling discouraged. Occasionally, he glared at his dwindling pile of food and water, but there was nothing to do about that. The 33’rd day, if you recall, was the day Tommy ran out of food. Just like that. And he only had a few more days of water left. When he fell asleep that night, still sick with concussion, he thought about Technoblade. He fell asleep knowing he was going to starve to death and there was nothing he could do. The boy was calm as he thought about it, like how Techno was before he died. He thought about that with great pride- the idea that he could have something in common with the hero who saved his life. Staring certain death in the face unblinkingly. He fought, like the older man asked him to, but he would not survive. A mixture of emotions swelled within him. Pride, despair, shame, love, grief. All valid and equally intense. But throughout it all was an undeniable calm. It would be okay! Didn’t Techno say that as well, before he died? It would be okay. He laid there on the bottom deck of the lifeboat, peeking up through the floorboards at the stars. Tommy thought he saw pink hair move past the sky, and he swears he heard the sound of sweaty glasses hitting the floor. But nobody was there. He started to drift off. _Hello Techno!_ he thought, _Hello Mom and Dad. I missed you. I love you. I’ll be there soon! Not yet of course, it will take a few days, maybe even a few weeks. But I’ll get there. I’ll be there. I fought like you said, ol’ Blade. And I lost. It’s okay! I’ll see you soon. See you soon..._ He fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	3. Salvation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh okay i said I would update at LEAST once a week... which means posting 3 times in two days is acceptable lol. I hope you enjoy! leave a comment if you do

The heavens were not going to let that sweet little boy get away that easily.

Tommyinnit woke up the next morning, surprisingly gently. His eyes cracked open, and the sun streamed down on his face. He sat up slowly and drank his daily portion of water. Not enough, but it’s okay. That’s when he noticed that the boat was no longer moving. 

Now fully awake, the sound of birds christened his ears. Birds. BirDS. BIRDS!!!! He sat up with a start, ignoring his lightheadedness. _Birds?_ Clutching the wooden stairway, he dragged himself up to the top deck, and beheld a sight he would never forget. 

Land. The sight was land. Mangroves rose and fell in and out of the water, leading up to a beach with pearly pale sand that rolled back into a forest. Rocks of all geographic nature settled deeply into the sand and earth, providing structure for the mangroves and breaking up the sand with their solid grey colors. The sand shifted into dirt, with moss and grass covering them almost to the point where you could not see the soil. The forest was home to every type of vegetation. Tall trees wove through it and dripped with vines. On some plants there was a speckling of tiny yellow flowers, cutting through the sea of green with their bright petals. Beech trees and weeping willows wore their flowered vines like a pretty lady wears a necklace. In the distance, mountains broke up the horizon. Their tall snowy peaks held the promise of fresh water. The earth held the promise of a meal. Overhead, the birds he heard earlier soared and squawked, with the undeniable, unmistakable promise of land. It must have been paradise. 

Tommy scrambled out of the boat, which was nestled between a set of mangrove vines. His feet touched the water and he waded toward the beach, until he felt sand and ground. The world spun. After a month of being cast out on swaying ocean waves, the floor was finally behaving the way it was supposed to. The boy’s mind rejoiced! Every part of him screamed with joy and relief. He knelt to the floor and nestled himself in the sand. Moved through it and let the good, real earth touch every part of his body. He crept forward into the moss and mud, and dragged his fingers through the ground. He watched as the soil let up easily and sweetly. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt real dirt. It was grounding. He laughed. 

A deep breath of fresh air. No air was ever fresher! He could breathe the earth. It smelled like hope. Technoblades words rung through his mind like Christmas bells, _It’s going to be okay. Fight for it to be okay! Survive, live, It’s not over yet!_

\---

When Tommy pulled himself together, he got to his feet, still giggling like a child. His head still hurt but it did not matter. The presence of land was a victory, and he was not going to let anything dull his momentary success. He waded back over to the boat and took his supplies- that is, what was left of the water- and wrapped it in his blankets. Then he tied it together and threw it over his shoulder in a sort of makeshift bag. He took out the compass, the only other thing given to him by the lifeboat, and put it in his pocket. Before leaving the boat, he used the roots of the mangrove trees to secure the boat more safely in it’s hold. Tommy was making sure that if he needed it again, it would still be there. Satisfied that the boat would not budge, and that he had taken everything of value from the boat, he started making mental notes of where he was in relation to everything else. _The mountains are west, so the lifeboat must be east. I should go west. Maybe there will be a river that way, seeing as the snow from the mountains must produce some sort of water, and logically that would create a river. Yes! There must be a river that way. And where there’s fresh water, there is civilization. I go west._ Hunger pains rippled through the young boy, and he suddenly doubted his ability to make the trek through the thick and probably dangerous forest. That would cost a lot of energy, and he was weak. Perhaps it would be better to walk along the beach, in hopes for civilization that way? _Or at least for some seaweed he could munch on._ The promise of washed up seaweed was enough to change his mind. He would walk along the coast, looking for food, and when he was full he would make the move inland. The boy didn’t know it then, but that decision was one that would save his life. There was no river inland, only diseases and wild animals. He would not have made it through the forest in that state. Plus, if he had decided to do that, he would never have met George.

\---

The boy walked along the coast for hours, eating seaweed and whatever other deep-sea plants he could find. Just whatever vegetation happened to wash up on the shore. Only when he had his fill (for the first time in a month) and was sipping on one of his water rations did he realize that Techno was right. They would not have both made it, if he got in the boat with him. They would have run out of food and water, and probably starved or thirsted to death. Tommy barely made it as is, and he had all the supplies to himself. This grim reality made the boy frown deeply. He raised his water can high to the sky. “For you, Techno!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, “This is for YOU!” He swore the sky looked pinker, if only for a moment. Took a sip of his drink, and it was gone. Maybe it was just the boy’s imagination. 

Night creeped into the corners of the sky. This would be his first night in this new world, and he was apprehensive. But anything’s better than that boat. Anything! Even the mild stomach cramps from the seaweed were better than spending even one more second out in the open ocean. 

The boy laid out on the sand, grateful to be alive. But damaged from the scorching trials. He hoped one day the damage would be repaired. At that moment, he had his doubts. He shouldn’t have! His wounds would heal, although they would leave a nasty scar. But they would heal, given time and life and love and all that other hallmark goodie-goodie whatnot. His wounds would heal if he could just let himself cry, and never stop crying, until the horrors he had seen seeped out through his tears and rolled away from him forever. Opening his eye sockets and his mind, the boy thought about his mother. He hoped her death was quick. He let his loss roll away from him in little salty beads of water. The more he thought about his losses, and he thought about his pain, the more the tears multiplied. Hating the sensation of hunger helped him cope. He cursed hunger. He cursed the sea! His silent cries turned into ugly sobs. He cursed the sea. He loved Technoblade. Loved his mother. Loved his father. Mourned their losses. The tears were an ocean, his wailing resonating into the night. Sobs reverberating off the water and amplifying through the air. Fine! There was no one here. Let the ocean know his suffering, hear his howls. She deserved that! She deserved to know the pain she caused. Greedy. Stupid. _Oh, mother! Oh, mother. I’m alone now, the sea took you from me. And my father. His body is probably lying cold and waterlogged at the bottom of the ocean-_

He could not go on. The thoughts clogged his mind. But he continued to sob through the night. It did not look like his wounds would heal, then. It looked grim. It looked fatal. 

But his wounds healed. 

All wounds can heal. 

\---

He woke up in the middle of the night, face wet and eyes puffy. Still crying a little in his sleep, even though it was dreamless. He must have just fallen asleep right where he was. 

Sounds came from the forest behind him. A gentle rustle of leaves, the snap of a twig, the stealthy motions of some nocturnal animal, the howl and coo of various creatures. Calls and hoots, and very distant padded footsteps. Behind his head, a whole nother world was well and alive, going about their natural days. As if nothing changed. No animal had bothered him while he slept. The whole forest must have heard Tommy’s crying, and decided to leave him alone, thinking he had been through enough grief. That might have been a bit of a stretch, but the boy liked to think it was true anyways. 

He sat up, and the pitch dark around him felt so heavy it was almost tangible. Cold soaked to his bones, and he wrapped the blanket he brought tightly to his body. The boy nestled himself in the sand again, wanting a few more hours of rest. He could hear the gentle lap of waves on the seashore. Such a calming noise. So deceiving. Tommy fell back asleep.

\---

When he woke up again it was almost dawn. He stood and stretched, feeling refreshed but very weak. It must have been the tears- and the thoughts, too. It was always good to get things out of your head. It made him feel better. Mid-stretch he spotted something from out in the middle of the forest that made him freeze. The boy immediately swung his arms down and stared blankly. _Was that, what it looks like? What I think it is?_

About half a mile inland, a single plume of smoke cut through the trees, rising steadily. 

Tommy’s spirits shot towards the sky. He tried to curb his hopes, in case it was a false alarm or something, but with no success. Chest heaving with excitement and newfound energy, he grabbed his stuff and marched towards it (not before checking his compass to make sure he could get back if need be). He started off moving slowly, because the terrain was unfamiliar and he didn’t want to fall and injure himself, but his emotions got the best of him and he ended up running. Where did this energy come from? Certainly not seaweed, that’s for sure. It was pure hope. Techno’s voice cheered him on, from the back of his head. _YES!_ it cried, _Live, baby! Live! Live!_ Tommy couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He ran faster, harder, and the plume of smoke got closer. Just when he reached a full on sprint, he collided with another body. The two people fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs and bruises. 

“Hey!” Georgenotfound huffed, “Watch where you’re going!” 

No response. 

“Uh. Kid. Hello? You okay?” 

George looked at the small frame beneath him, clothes tattered, eyes sunken from hunger and red from tears, skin pale and unwashed. Tommy stared up at the older man in a daze, heart pounding. 

Then a smile split across his face, a big toothy grin. So wide it split his upper lip. He leaped up and kissed George square on the nose. 

“AUGH! What the hell-” George said, as he shoved the child away. “What is wrong with you?” 

“I’m so sorry!” Tommy responded, although his face conveyed otherwise. “I’m just so happy to see another human! This is a miracle! A real miracle! Oh man, you don’t know what I’ve been through. Like seriously, it’s been hell.”

Tommy went on to explain everything that happened in the last month and a half. How his boat crashed, the head injury and concussion, the death of his parents, the sacrifice of his friend, drifting out on the open ocean, being absolutely terrified, running out of food the same day he washed ashore here, walking along the beach, crying, seeing the smoke, and running into George. When the kid started the story George looked annoyed (and was still rubbing his nose from the surprise kiss), but by the time the story was over he looked worried and frightened. And a little skeptical. 

“This is all true?”

Tommy confirmed. 

“And!” the kid began confidently. “I really need medical attention!” He said it almost proudly, before collapsing forward into George’s arms. 

That damned concussion.


	4. A Home

George half-carried Tommy through the forest. By the time they were almost to the plume of smoke, Tommy was resting his full weight on the older boy’s shoulders. George grunted with exertion, but he was surprisingly strong and didn’t get out of breath easily. Perhaps living in the forest did that to you. 

The forest let into a path, which they followed down to a clearing. At the center of the clearing, nestled between trees on either side, was a tall wood cabin. It was surrounded by flowers, obviously planted and tended to by someone who cared (Tommy could tell because of the fresh fertilizer). Moss crept up on the sides of the building and long windows spanned across the walls. Light shone in through them and illuminated deep blue curtains, floor length and velvet, that draped the windows from inside the house. Near the top of the building, a mosaic of stained glass glittered down at the young boy. It was a picture of a lady, with her arms crossed around her chest. She looked friendly. 

“Who is that?” Asked Tommy, still a little dazed. 

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s Saint Mary. This building used to be a church,” Came the response. 

“Clay! CLAY!! Come out here and help me,” The brunette boy shouted. A man (supposedly Clay) burst out of the cabin. When he saw the situation he took a moment to process before scooping his arms under Tommy and carrying him up the steps and through the front door. 

_Oh God, I hope these people aren’t serial killers or anything._

“What happened? Who is this?” implored Clay, as he brought Tommy over to a couch and gently laid him down. The boy blinked deeply as he fought to maintain consciousness. 

“I found him out near the willow trees. He, quite literally, ran into me. Claims to be a shipwreck survivor.” _But I don’t know how much is true,_ came the unspoken afterthought. 

“He looks pretty out of shape.” 

The two men looked down at the boy on the couch.

“Please. Do you have any food? I’m absolutely starving.” Tommy lamented. “Water would also be nice.” 

“Yeah! Yeah, of course.” George moved to the kitchen. Clay knelt by the couch and put a reassuring hand on the boy’s back, which calmed him a little, even though the man was a stranger. 

“You have a nice place,” he commented, not knowing what else to say. It _was_ a nice place. Very restful and cozy. Couches, tables, a bookshelf, various quilts and paintings, and a rug really made the place feel like a home. There were lights scattered about as well. The only evidence that this building was ever a church were the beams that ran across the ceiling, and the fact that the skeletons of the chairs were probably made from old pews. _This doesn’t look like the home of a serial killer, that’s for sure. But I should still keep my guard up a little. I don’t know who these people are._

This thought was immediately abandoned when George came back with a sandwich and a glass of water, which the boy scarfed down with record speed. He asked for another, and the brunette obliged. This time Tommy took a little longer, or at least long enough to be able to differentiate from the bites. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever tasted. 

Halfway through the sandwich, Tommy started crying (again). The men tried their best to console him, as he spewed out a string of half sentences, about how he wished his parents and Technoblade could’ve tried the sandwich, how he was alone, had no living relatives, didn’t know where he was and had no way to get home, even if he had somewhere to go.

When he had calmed a little, Clay pulled the brunette aside. “George. Can I speak to you for a moment,” the man whispered softly. The two of them moved into the kitchen. 

Muffled conversation spilt through the door. 

“Dream! We have to turn him in to child services. What if he’s lying? What if he’s just a runaway? What if he really does have living relatives, and he just doesn’t want to live with them or something?” 

“Okay. And what if he’s not. What if he’s telling the truth, and he really is a shipwrecked orphan. If we hand him over to child services, he’s gonna end up in an orphanage for the rest of his childhood. How old even is he?” 

“I don’t know, I just found him! Dream we can't just…”

The rest of the conversation trailed out of earshot. _What a strange nickname, Dream. Wonder how he got it. I wonder what’s going to happen to me. These people seem nice, I hope they’ll let me stay here. Just for a little while. I really don’t want to end up in an orphanage._

Still sniffling, he finished off the remainder of his sandwich. Another bout of dizziness struck him, alarmingly common nowadays, and he laid his head on a couch pillow. It only took a moment before he fell asleep. 

\---

He awoke to good news. “We’re gonna let you stay,” Said the brunette, with Clay’s hand on his shoulder. 

A chorus of gratitude spilled out of Tommy’s mouth, but was interrupted by a finger in the air. 

“For NOW. For now. You’re on parole. If you end up being trouble, you can’t stay with us any longer. Stay out of trouble, and you can be here as long as you need.” 

“And you have to pull your weight in chores,” chimed Dream. The brunette shot him a look. He gave him a face like ‘what!’ and stared back. 

Tommy interrupted the silent conversation: “Thank you. Thank you! Yes, of course I’ll help with the chores, whatever you need.” 

The boy smiled at them, a little sheepish. Dream smiled back. George looked thoughtful. 

“Wait! Didn’t you say something about a head injury, back in the forest?” 

The boy’s smile turned stony. He touched the back of his head and felt the lump of soft flesh. “Yeah,” he whispered, almost unperceivably. 

Dream felt the back of the boy’s head and winced at the texture. “That’s gotta hurt. I can give you a Tylenol. How long have you had that?” 

“Since the ship crashed, so, about a month ago. I got it when my friend threw me into the lifeboat. He saved me. Hey, the lifeboat! It’s still there, down by the beach. If you want proof that I’m telling the truth, you can go see it.” 

“Hmm. Okay, maybe I will.” George muttered. Although, he never did end up doing so. It got to a point where George loved the kid so much he didn’t care where he came from. 

Dream returned with the tylenol. “This will help.” 

“Thank you.” 

It must have been the lack of food and water, or the incessant rocking of the lifeboat, or the freezing to blazing to freezing temperatures, but the boy just couldn’t heal while he was out at sea. Under the care of Dream and George, though, he got better within a week or two. Having a steady source of food and water must have done the trick, or maybe it was the comfortable bed in their spare bedroom. Plus he was getting a lot more sleep now. Maybe the concussion just ran its course! In any case, he was a little better every day. Things were looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments greatly appreciated! see you all tomorrow with another update :)


	5. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today's is a short one, sorry. <3

The boy learned that he landed in America, which makes sense given the fact his ship was traversing the Pacific ocean. When he asked, George said that they were in Oregon. 

“Why do you two live in the middle of the forest?” The boy asked gingerly, sensing that this might be a touchy subject. He was right, because it was a long moment before the brunette responded. 

“It was just easier for us to be out here.”

Tommy doubted THAT. How could living in a forest be easier than living in civilization? But he didn’t press. 

Once the boy’s head healed, and his body recovered from his egregious month at sea, Dream had a list of tasks for him to help with. Some were simple and around the house, like doing the dishes twice a week or sweeping the floor on Sundays, but some were a little more labor-intensive, such as chopping firewood or getting water from the well. Dream taught him how to chop firewood. He gave him an iron axe that he was not allowed to bring to the house, but could carry with him through the forest if he felt he needed protection. “From snakes or the like,” he said, but the ‘or the like’ part made the boy’s stomach sink a little. 

They had a well not too far from the house, which was their main source of water- their secondary source being anything collected from the rain. From the boy’s treks between the well and the little church house, he became familiar with that part of the woods. He knew every low hanging branch and stone like it was the back of his hand. He came to like the little outcropping of tall grass, and the magnolia flowers that settled comfortably at the roots of trees. 

In his spare time, which was in the afternoons, he would explore. He still had that compass the lifeboat gave him, and he used it to navigate. Over boulders and through vines, he scoped much of the nearby area. More than once, he found himself at the beach, although not always at the same place. The boy dared to get close to the water, close enough to even see the small fish and corral that thrived near the shore, but he refused to step even a foot in. Standing on the beach, he felt smug. _Can’t touch me now, vicious blue. I’m standing too far away from you._ The waves stretched out on the sand, as if reaching for him, and he laughed heartily. _Greedy, greedy, greedy._ One day he would grow to forgive the ocean. But not today. 

The church house had its own generator, which meant it had lights, heat, and a television. Many nights the boy stayed up late and watched whatever was on. It was calming, and entertaining. Sometimes, George would hear him and come out of his room, nestling himself on the couch next to the boy. There, in their pajamas, they would stay up late, watching intently. Tommy’s favorite was _Star Trek_ and George’s favorite was _Full House_. Once, in a hushed voice, he told the boy that Dream’s favorite was _I Love Lucy_. Tommy looked over at the man, and he looked content. Oftentimes they fell asleep, the boy leaning his head on the man’s shoulder, feeling warm and safe.


	6. Blackberries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry Christmas! I hope you all have a wonderful day

“Hello,” Dream said, walking into the cabin. A new day was breaking over the world, flooding light in through the tall windows. George couldn’t see the stained glass window from where he was standing, but he knew if he went up to the attic he could watch the room turn multicolored and beautiful from the refractions of the light. He was considering going up there later, when Dream threw open the front door. 

“Hello,” came the brunette’s reply. 

“Where’s the kiddo?” Dream took off his boots in the doorway, trying not to get mud everywhere. The other man noticed this with a gentle smile. 

“I sent him out to go pick some berries, ya know, the ones west of the evergreens.” 

“Oh the blackberries? I didn’t know they were in season!” 

“As of today they are.”

“Yay! Blackberries,” Dream bustled over to the brunette with open arms, planting a kiss on his cheek. 

“Agh! No!” Came the protest, “You’re covered in mud!” but the brunette was giggling anyways, as the taller boy speckled him with kisses and a blushing embrace. 

“I know, I know, all covered in mud and nothing to show for. I did not bring home a single duck.” 

“Oh, that’s okay. You have the rest of the day to hunt. I don’t know why you bother getting up so early anyways.” 

“It’s because the rabbits are really active at this hour.” George went, _ohhhh_. “On a good day I can come home with rabbit _and_ duck.”

Clay’s head poked up from where it was bundled in the man’s shoulder. 

“What is that smell? It’s amazing.”

“Ah you like it? That’s the smell of my world-famous flourless chocolate cake, baking at 400 degrees for 20 minutes.”

George glanced behind him into the kitchen. 

“15 minuets now, actually.”

He looked again.

“14 minuets.”

“Okay I get it.”

“Soon it will be 13 minuets.”

“Okay.”

“Then 12.”

“Oh my god.”

“Then 11.”

“You’re insufferable.” 

George laughed and considered going on, but he was not given a chance as Dream kissed him on the mouth. 

_Love you._ The kiss said. 

_Love you, too._ He didn’t even need to say it. 

Dream pulled back and smiled. “Hey! You remembered to tell Tommy which berries not to pick, right? Just so he doesn’t get mixed up.”

“Of course, I showed him. And I told him not to eat any until he gets back, just in case. Not that there’s anything other than blackberries in that field.” 

They shared a look. The boy would 100% have eaten some of the berries by the time he gets back. It’s Tommy, for chrissakes. 

Dream and George both had pretty busy daytime routines as well. Dream had to hunt and fish, which took a good part of the day. George was gardening in the mornings and cooking in the afternoons. It was a lot of laborious physical work, for the both of them. Thankfully, the boy who had entered their lives not so long ago certainly lightened the load. Having an extra set of hands really made a difference, and even though it was another mouth to feed, it was certainly worth it in terms of workload. Plus! The boy was good company. Interesting to talk to, and funny too. True, they were happy on their own, but the boy’s presence gave nothing to really complain about. Yes, he was sometimes a slob, and yes, he had a mischievous spirit (which occasionally showed its presence in the form of broken items or light injuries), but it was nothing the two men couldn’t handle. He was a good kid. 

It’s true Tommy sometimes stayed up late. On the nights he didn’t, however, Clay and George would sit at barstool side by side. Clay would find a bottle of whisky and pour a glass, offering some to George. The brunette always took a little, but not much. They would talk about their day until they ran out of things to say, then they would sit in contented silence. Dream would get very drunk, and George would put an arm under his shoulder as he carried the man to bed. Or sometimes they would ditch the whiskey altogether, and sit watching tv. If something funny happened, one of them would start laughing and set off the other, until they were giggling as quietly as possible in front of the show. Then, just when you thought they calmed down, a brush of eye contact or another joke would start the laughter all over again- this time more rambunctious and wholehearted. The nights that Dream didn’t fall asleep drunk on whiskey, he fell asleep drunk on laughter and good company. 

Some nights, for some reason or another, Dream wasn’t home. George didn’t mind these nights, because he didn’t mind being alone (although he liked being with Clay), and it gave him a chance to read. He loved to read so much. Every spare moment of the day George could be found with a book in his hand, simply absorbing the pages. He loved the stories, and the way the words painted a picture in the back of his head, always different, always wonderful. They had a bookshelf downstairs that was filled with books, and quite a few boxes in the attic were filled with them too. He told Tommy to help himself to them, and the boy did, already having taken, read, and returned a couple. George would never admit it, but the fact he liked to read made him like the boy a little more. 

As if on cue, the boy entered the kitchen, wearing George’s old clothes. _We have to get him some new ones, soon. I might ask Wilbur to bring some._

Tommy greeted George and began chattering excitedly, before he noticed Dream’s sleeping form. The man must have dozed off on a chair, and was now out cold. He continued talking in a hushed voice, so as not to disturb his older friend. 

“I got the berries!” 

George nodded in appreciation. He examined them while Tommy spoke. 

“Isn’t Wilbur coming today?”

“Yes, he should be.” 

Contrary to what Tommy originally believed, the two men were not completely isolated. Lots of people came and visited the cabin, bringing things like flour and chocolate and other things that could not be produced from the wilderness. And cat food for Patches. Speak of the devil! The little kitty purred and rubbed his face on Tommy’s leg, who picked him up affectionately. 

As the boy stroked Patches’ soft fur, he wondered why the men couldn’t just leave to get that stuff on their own. He saw Dream leave sometimes, and even George got out every once in a while. But they never brought anything back or gave any explanation of where they went. It unsettled Tommy a little, all these mysteries, all the vagueness. He never really got a clear answer as to why they were outside of civilization. He wondered if Dream… killed somebody. And now he was in hiding or something. But no. No way! That big sofie, the guy who loves George so much, who loves _I Love Lucy,_ who cried when Patches stepped on a loose nail and mildly injured her paw? He was not a murderer. But then what!? What were they hiding from. What was the truth? 

He would ask Dream when he woke up. George was too coy to give him a straight answer, but maybe the taller boy would be honest. He wanted to know. Plus, by now they must know that no matter what happened, he’d still be around.


	7. Alone Again

The doorbell rang. _It must be Wilber._

Tommy rushed to open the door, and was greeted by the sight of Niki, looking worried and scared. 

“Dream! Is Dream here?” She asked, pushing past the young boy and walking into the house. 

“What’s wrong, dear?” George called from the kitchen. Instead of answering, the girl burst into tears, and he and Tommy moved to console her. 

“It's Wilbur. He hasn’t been home in so long. He was just on one of his routine runs to the nether, to pick up some more quartz for an order, and he hasn’t come back. It’s been two days. I don’t know what to do…”

Dream, now fully awake, asked, “Two days? Are you sure he isn’t with a friend or something?”

“Yes! Yes I’m sure. He told me he would be back in a few hours, and when he wasn’t I started calling everybody- asking if they had seen him. Nobody had. I followed him through the portal, but it was blocked from the other side. I couldn’t get through. I had no idea what to do so I came to you.”

“I need your help,” she continued, “I know there’s a ruined portal out in this part of the woods. We can enter the nether through there and go look for him.” 

“But… it’s ruined. Is there a means to fix it out here? I don’t have any obsidian-” 

George was cut off by Dream’s harsh voice. “It’s not ruined. Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I fixed it not long ago.”

“What...” The brunette looked hurt, “Without telling me? Why?” 

“I didn’t want to worry you by telling you. It was just in case we needed a quick means of escape. It was just in case, I swear.” 

Dream put his hands on the shorter man’s shoulders, in an attempt to be reassuring. _Ah. So they were hiding from something. Or running from something. I knew there was more to these two than meets the eye._

“That’s perfect then,” Niki began, “We can go through there. I have a loose idea of where he might be. If he’s not there…” 

“If he’s not there we shouldn’t assume he isn’t alive. There’s a fair chance that Schlatt could have taken him.”

Dream shuddered. “Then we go. Let’s go now, there isn’t a moment to lose. Niki do you have armor? And weapons?” 

“Yes! Full iron, with an enchanted helmet.”

“What enchantments?”

“Clarity III.”

“Oh, good. That will be super useful for finding him. That’s great news. Suit up. George, will you bring food? And supplies.”

But the brunette was already on it, wrapping steaks and bread and putting them away into a bag. Niki walked away, presumably to go put on her armor. 

“Get the good armor, Dream. Your diamond sword is in the closet, on the top drawer. And don’t forget mine!” He called, as the blond disappeared down the hall. 

“What about me? I don’t have armor, only that axe Dream gave me.”

George stopped packing. “You’re not coming.”

“What? But I can help!” 

“Absolutely not! You only recovered from a shipwreck about a little while ago. And you’re still too young for the nether- it’s incredibly dangerous.” 

“That wasn’t a little while ago; it was a few months ago now.”

George paused again. _Really, months? It feels like just yesterday he collided with that boy in the forest. Wow, time really passes when you’re harboring a shipwrecked orphan boy._

“Still. Did you forget about your concussion? Or the sorry state we found you in? I can still see your ribcage if you lift up your shirt. You’re not fit to go, and that’s final.” 

George had a point, his body was still recovering from his horrible expedition. Despite George’s great cooking, he was still thin and a little scrawny. Not to mention his mind was still a little shaky, too. He cried at night frequently, and George must have heard it at least once. He relented. 

“You can hold down the fort here. There’s enough food in the fridge to last a few days. I trust you can fend for yourself.”

Dream returned with two glittering diamond swords, and armor for the brunette. He was already wearing his own armor, and it glittered on him smartly. It looked natural on him. Like he was a born fighter. 

“And what if you don’t come back?” the boy muttered quietly. Both men turned to look at him. 

“Hey,” Clay began softly, “We will come back! Of course we’ll come back. Don’t you know who you’re looking at? It’s Dream and George! We’re practically pro’s at the nether.” 

“Yeah, and we're pro’s at surviving. Like, in general.” 

That rang true. All the boy had to do was look around, and see the life Dream and George build for themselves out of little to nothing. If they could do all this, then they must be pros at survival. 

These thoughts soothed him. Maybe it would be fine. Just a short expedition- in and out- and then his family would all be back together. Including Wilbur. 

“Hang tight, okay kiddo?” the blond touched his shoulder. 

Niki reappeared, Dream slung the supply pack over his shoulder, and George finished putting on his armor. Just before leaving, the three of them each put on a set of golden cuffs. 

“We’ll be back in a few days, okay?” 

“...Okay.” 

George affectionately ruffled the boy’s hair before walking out the door. With a click, he was alone again. 

\---

It all happened so fast; Niki was here and they were gone in less than 20 minutes. The boy hoped they didn’t forget anything important. 

He’d heard about Niki before, but he’d never seen her in person. Wilbur talked about her a lot when he came to visit, and Dream always asked him how she was. She was always doing well.

He supposed he knew about Wilbur’s job as a quarryman, just from bits of gossip or chatter he picked up whenever the man stopped by to visit. He never gathered that it could be something dangerous. From how Wilbur described it, it seemed pretty mundane. He wasn’t even part of the mining crew, he was just a delivery man! That’s like the equivalent of being an Amazon worker. Not a particularly high risk job, Tommy would have assumed. But I guess you’re partially working in the nether, which can be dangerous. 

Niki was very pretty. She had long blond hair and a nice face. The detail that struck the boy the most, however, was the sparkling wedding ring on her right hand. _Married? To Wilbur, most likely. How come he never mentioned that? How come nobody ever tells him anything? AND WHO IS SCHLATT??_

Today was the day he was going to get some clarity. He was finally going to confront Dream and ask why him and George were out in the middle of the wilderness. And instead of answers, he just got a whole slew of new questions. 

The boy stumbled outside. The sky looked beautiful, an array of colors and shadows that reminded him of a painting. The trees sat under it, foreboding and unknown. He was not looking forward to nighttime alone in this semi-strange land, even with a cabin and lots of food. And he was certainly not comfortable with the close proximity of the ocean. The boy sighed heartily. 

Maybe this was for the best. Maybe he was becoming a little too dependent on Dream and George, and he needed some time on his own. He was almost 17; practically an adult. He shouldn’t be this worried about being alone at this age. He should be strong! He could be strong. 

His thoughts reminded him of Technoblade, and instinctively his eyes picked out the pink in the sky. The stained glass window of Saint Mary shined vibrantly behind him. 

“Saint Mary and, uhh, well Techno too. If you’re up there, will you help me? Will you keep my friends safe? Watch over them, and protect them? I’m not very religious, but now I believe in an afterlife. I have to, or else my loved ones are really gone. I can’t have that, can I? So Technoblade, I know you’re up there. Can you watch over my friends for me? And Saint Mary, could you keep them safe? If you’re real? If Techno is there? Hello?”

No response from the heavens. Tommy didn’t know what he was expecting. 

The sky was still pink, and the stained glass still shone. Truly no different than before, but maybe that was a sign in itself.


	8. George's Books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone!! Christmas break has given me lots of time to write, and I have a good part of this fic already written. what I'm trying to say is there's gonna be quite a few more chapters lol

It’s been a week. Tommy’s getting restless. 

George said he’d be back in a few days. How many is a few? Two days? Three days? Five? A few days could mean anything. Could a few days mean a week? No.. no way. Somethings wrong. Or maybe not! Perhaps he’s just getting worried over nothing. Maybe they're fine, and it’s just taking a little longer than expected. Still, something really didn’t sit right with the boy. It was like a gut feeling. A sinking intuition. Something felt off. 

The boy had been biding his time with his daily chores, with cooking, and with reading. He had discovered that not all the books in the house were recreational, and in fact a good percent of them were practical. When Tommy sprained his ankle not too long ago (he tripped over a boulder), George had knelt between the injured foot and a book that contained a lot of practical medical advice. He looked at diagrams and read over the pages, until he could determine that it was a sprain and not a break, and that all Tommy needed was to keep off it for a while. George told him a story about how that very book saved Dream’s leg. He had a freak hunting accident and his gun misfired, shooting into his upper thigh. George read about bullet wounds as Dream kept pressure on his leg. The brunette removed the bullet and cleaned the wound, before disinfecting, applying gauze, and wrapping it tightly. It was probably not efficient as a nurse could have done it, and George had no experience doing that before, but it got the job done. When Tommy asked why they didn’t just go to a hospital, the brunette had responded with silence, further confirming his theory that Dream and George were in hiding. 

The point is: a lot of those books are really useful. He kept a few aside that he thought he might need, like one called _What You Can and Can’t Eat: Plant Edition_ which talked about all the different types of poisonous and nonpoisonous flora and fauna found in the wilderness. Thanks to that book, the boy found a lovely honeysuckle plant over by the north quarter, which he stopped by whenever he was missing home. The sweet tasting flower reminded him of an ice cream shop he used to go to as a kid. It was nice. Another one was called _Knots_ , which is self explanatory. He used that one to make a net from some rope he found in Dream’s shed. He didn’t have anything useful to do with the net now, _but it sure would have been useful when he was a castaway at sea,_ he thought bitterly. There were also various cookbooks that George was always flipping through, and gardening almanacs, both of which were pertentaint to the brunette’s everyday tasks. Tommy found an Atlas, and wistfully placed his finger where his old home would be. _Still there, but soon it would be sold, because there was nobody paying for it now._ The boy realized his parents must have had some money saved, but he felt like he could never bring himself to go collect it. _It would be too painful. I need to move on from them, let them go. Start a new life. Live again! Like Techno told me too._ He also traced the path he assumes he floated along in the Pacific, feeling glad that the voyage wasn’t longer. On the map it was barely the length of his fingertip, but it took a whole month to cross. _Maps are so misleading. They never correctly capture the vastness of the world. A little splotch of blue on a paper does not correctly represent the fields and fields of rolling cerulean, the infinite fish below your feet, the scorching sun and thunderous winds._ Despite thinking this, the boy continued to stare at the Atlas, moving through its many pages and inspecting each part of the world with fascination and care. Like he was going to buy each piece of land, and he wanted to make sure the earth had no imperfections before he claimed ownership of it. If there was, then he would take his business elsewhere! Yes, if Earth would not do, he would take a look at Mars, then Saturn, then Venus, until he found a planet that was quite to his taste. The bourgeois starman. 

Bored by the second day that Dream and George were gone, the boy took to searching through the attic. That’s when he found the book that would be the most useful to him, the most important to him, out of maybe every single book in the world. It was called _The Nether_.

He flipped through the pages. He had heard about the Nether before, but only really casually. In grade school there might have been a lesson or two on it that he slept through, never having been the greatest student. He knew that it was another place, one that could only be accessed through an obsidian portal, which you had to light with flint and steel. He knew there were strange creatures over there- pig zombies who were harmless until provoked, aggressive traders with heads of pigs and bodies of people, creatures made out of molten lava who bounced up and down like a spring, giant pigs with huge tusks, lava striders, enderman, and more, probably. He also knew that in the old days it was the place prisoners would get sent, to be exiled forever. However, as more and more people were sent over, more and more people survived against the odds, learning to live off of the harsh and unforgiving land. In time they formed a civilization there and called it Netheria. Centuries passed and Netheria was recognized as an official nation- surviving off the import and export of Nether goods. Things like quartz, gold, glowstone, and of course Netherite were in high demand in the overworld, and the Nether people thrived off of trade. The peace and prosperity of Netheria was short lived, however, as bloody and brutal civil war broke out. Clans fought one another for the rights to quartz deposits and Nether forests, and attempted to block one another from trading with the overworld. They broke themselves apart in the process, splitting Netharia into seven different countries, each major clan claiming their own piece of land. Relative peace settled again, and trade resumed, although tensions must have been high. When Tommy was a kid there was talk about another war breaking out in the Nether, but it never really bothered him because it was literally in another dimension. Now that his friends were all over there, it bothered him a little. Hopefully it was all just talk. 

The book wasn’t just history, though, it also had a lot of other things. Large drawings of the various creatures with detailed descriptions caught Tommy’s eye. He lingered on one, a red, scaly animal with a large head and two short legs. It also seemed to have whiskers poking out of the side of its head, and a long mouth that stretched across the entirety of its face. He read the caption, _Strider,_ and gawked at the strangeness of the being. 

In depth descriptions of Piglins and the items they would give you filled several pages. A footnote on one of the pages explained the weird relationship between the Piglins and the Nether people, how early Netharians discovered wearing gold could keep the Piglins at bay, and Piglin trade could be an extremely profitable enterprise, albeit risky. The book described it like gambling- you give them a piece of gold and you could get something worth 10 pieces, or something worth nothing. Also in the book were topographical and political maps of the Nether, with the political map outlining the seven different clans. There was also another map that showed the roads and towns. 

Tommy read for hours. The more he did, the more he began to understand why Wilbur’s job was so risky and why Dream, George, and Niki had gone to the Nether fully armored. The place was hostile. _Very_ hostile. 

And now his friends had not come back. They were in a hostile, unknown world and with each passing second the boy was more and more sure they had gotten into trouble. 

He steeled himself. He knew what he had to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I know this chapter and the last were a little bit different, so thank you if you're still here


	9. Schlatt

When Niki, Dream, and George first arrived in the Nether, they didn’t recognize the place. 

“Damn! This must be a new portal location or something. Why didn’t the one we built link up like the others do?” Niki called out. 

To prevent border issues between the clans, all portals to the overworld had to be in a neutral zone in the Nether. So, no matter what portal was used in the overworld, you would appear in the neutral zone, and from there you could make your way around the rest of the Nether. This connection system made it easier to trade between the two worlds. So it was certainly a surprise to appear in the Nether in a location that was not the neutral zone. 

“If this is a new location, it was built illegally. I can’t even begin to think about how many treaties this portal violates,” George added, looking worried. 

Dream scanned the area. “Maybe this is an extended area of the neutral zone? I don’t know, it's been a while since the last time I was here.” 

“I don’t know either, I really don’t like this. Maybe we should go back and then re-enter. That might fix it,” Niki put a hand on her sword instinctively. 

Before anyone could say another word, a huge crash echoed behind them. The portal had crumbled from that side. 

“Wha.. What?” Niki drew up her sword, and George and Dream followed suit. 

As they did so, George cried out with surprise. “How did that happen? Where did that come from- Dream look out!” 

A piglin swung at the blonde boy from behind, and scored his armor with an axe. The force of the blow hurt him, and he grunted in pain. 

George took up his own sword and stabbed the piglin in the chest. He fell to the ground, but in the same moment another piglin reared up from behind the man and clubbed him over the head with the blunt end of an axe. He crumpled to the ground and fell unconscious. 

“George no!” Dream rushed to his beloved but was cut off by a third piglin, and then a forth. Niki cried out from somewhere behind him, and the sound of a sword meeting its target ripped through the air. Dream hoped it was Niki who did the stabbing, and not the other way around. He ducked under the frantic swing of a pigman and pushed him over into the other one, the collision knocking two pigmen over. He whirled around to see Niki still intact, but rapidly losing the battle as she became surrounded. Dream fought hard, stabbing left and right, as piglins enclosed him in as well. 

“I’m wearing gold!” He cried out, “I’m wearing gold, see! You can’t attack me!” He thrust his wrist in the air, and was sure they all saw the gold cuffs, because they grunted and snorted in their pigman language. They cocked their heads to the side and their animal noses twitched, like they do when they’re considering something for a trade, but still they continued to attack. Dream felt something sharp and needle-like go into his exposed shoulder, and then he was unconscious.

\---

When Dream awoke he was in a little room, fully stone with the exception of a small glass window on the door, with George, Niki, himself, and Wilbur. George was still out cold, while Niki and Wilbur were embracing.

“I missed you Niki. I missed you. I wasn’t sure I would ever see you again,” Wilbur gushed, as he clutched the girl tightly. 

“I missed you too. So much. Oh God, I thought you were dead!” 

“No,” he breathed, smiling, “I’m alive. I’m here.”

Niki cried tears of relief, and she cradled his face. 

“Good to see you okay, Wilbur,” said Dream. Wilbur saluted in response. The blond boy crawled over to where George was laying, aware of the shooting pain in his back where he was struck. He put his hand on George’s back. 

“How long has he been out?” 

“I don’t know, he just put me in here. I was being held in another room. And Niki was unconscious too, so she doesn’t know.” 

Dream turned to Wilbur. “Who?”

As if on cue, Jschlatt appeared at the doorway. He looked in on the scene from through the glass. 

“Settling in okay, Dreamy?” He grinned, ram horns outlining his silhouette. To Dream he looked like the devil.


	10. Determination!

Tommy gathered his supplies. He wrapped up food and filled several water bottles, and put them in a large backpack that he found underneath George’s bed. He took spare torches he found in the shed, a bed roll, flint and steel, and a bunch of other little items he thought he might need: such as a toothbrush, spare socks, and rope. He also got the axe Dream gave him and the compass he had with him from the boat. Remembering what he read in _The Nether_ about the piglins, he searched the house for something golden he could wear. He found a set of chainmail gold gloves, which looked like someone’s family heirloom (sorry George), and put them on. By the gloves was a set of gold coins with an emblem of a ghast on them- the boy recognized them as the official currency of Netheria. Whether or not that currency was still in use was unknown to him, but the coins _were_ made of gold so they had to be worth something, if not much. Lastly, he scanned the book one last time, and tore out all the maps, folding them up and putting them in his pocket. He was ready.

The boy knew where the ruined portal was from his afternoon adventures in the woods. He had come across it a few times before, but never while it was fixed. Never having seen a lit nether portal, he was a bit nervous, but also figured it would be nothing compared to the stuff he’s seen. It would be fine. This would be fine!

As he marched to the portal he started to realize that he had no plan. I mean, he knew that Wilbur, Niki, George, and Dream were all in trouble, but he didn’t know from what. And he didn’t know where. Nervously, he pulled the nether maps out of his pocket and found the political territories one. There were seven territories, all with different names. He eyed the piece of paper. _El Rapids, Badlands, Dry Waters._ Some of these names he had heard before. For example, he knew that the _Badlands_ were true to their name and were a pretty chaotic and unruly country. They surrounded a part of the other nations, and due to this fact they found little provocation from the smaller territories, who would be at a huge tactical disadvantage if there was a war. _L’Manberg_ was the largest territory, and Tommy knew it was also the most powerful. This was because they had the most resourceful biomes, and consequently the most trade. There were quite a few places that Tommy had never heard of before, like a place called _New Netheria_ and another one called _Bogolandia,_ both of which he knew nothing about. 

Wilbur was... A delivery man, for lack of a better word. He delivered goods between the Nether and the Overworld, which would mainly be items for trade. And the most trade-heavy nation in the Nether was _L’Manberg._ So Wilbur must be there. He would look there first. _But I’m not going to be a fool,_ thought Tommy, _If I find any clues that suggest otherwise, I’ll jump at the opportunity. And I’ll ask around, too._

He was at the portal. An obsidian frame sat on top of red, uneven rocks. Nearby was a chest, which he knew was empty. The boy remembered what he learned from the Nether book (he had opted not to bring that as it was almost too heavy to carry), and he took the flint and steel out of his bag. He struck it against the obsidian, once, twice, three times, WOOSH! The portal went up in a flame. A thin purple film stretched out inside the frame, starting at the center and getting thicker the further it moved out. When it reached the edges, the portal made a quick noise which dissolved into a low hum. The whole thing emitted an eerie violet glow. Needless to say the sight did not fill the boy with confidence, but he pressed on, for the sake of his family. He took a step into the portal…

His hands and feet tingle sharply, the sensation surprising him so much he yelped. Then he was spinning, slowly at first then faster. Then he was falling, faster at first then slower. The tingling ended and he felt his feet touch the ground, and he took a step forward. _The Nether._

\---

There were definitely more noises than he expected. The hustle and chatter of people, the animalistic snort language of the piglins, the beep and _brrrr_ of electronic machinery and vehicles, the trot of camels and the sounds of a marketplace. It was a lot to take in.

When he looked up, he saw that the sky was not there, and in fact was replaced by a high ceiling of red netherrack. The boy felt like he was inside of a huge and strangely sculpted building, and he could not get it in his head that there was no blue sky past the expanse of red. He was quickly pushed forward by the next person coming in through the portal, with a “Hey kid, what are you doing? Quit fooling around,” that reminded him of New York. All around him he could see intermittent portals and processing stations. Like a strange airport. 

He was pushed into a line of people that was moving very quickly. When the boy got to the front a gruff man in a police officer uniform gave him a once over. 

“Purpose of your trip?”

“Uhh, visitation.”

“How long do you intend to stay?” 

“One- one week.”

“Identification?”

_Shit._ The boy thought fast. He reached into his backpack and pulled out an ID card. It was one of George’s, and he brought it so that when he was asking around about the brunette he could show people a picture. He knew that wasn’t the brightest idea, because George was probably in hiding, so he was only going to show it if there was someone who thinks they might have seen him. But now the ID card would serve another use. He handed it to the officer. 

“You’re… George Davidson?”

“That’s me!” Tommy said with a wide grin, trying to replicate George’s mouth shape. 

“I see you changed your hair,” the officer squinted with scrutiny. 

“Yea, the brown wasn’t really working out for me. Made me look older than I was.” 

“And how old are you?” 

“21,” the boy answered confidently. He absolutely did not look 21.

“...Okay. You’re good to go. Welcome to Netheria.” 

The officer stamped the ID card with something invisible, then semi-pushed Tommy through a turnstile. He breathed a sigh of relief. _Thank God for mediocre Nether security._

Once through the gate, a marketplace setting unfurled before him. Piglins and people stood at booths, filling plates with every type of food imaginable. He thought he smelled curry, but it was overpowered by the unmistakable scent of mushroom. There were dishes and drinks he didn’t recognize, and some he did (but most he didn’t). There were even utensils and cooking apparatuses that he had never seen before. Notably recognizable, however, were the vending machines lined up against the far wall, each with a large _Coca-Cola_ printed on the side. The clash of foreign and familiar was so jarring that the boy almost wanted to laugh. He settled for a smile and pushed forward. 

_Okay, L’Manberg. I need to get to the L’Manberg territory._

Moving forward he left the mini marketplace, all the while people calling out to him to buy this or that, try a sample, look at this shop. The life and commotion of the area filled him with a new strength, one that he had admittedly not felt since before _The SMP_ sunk. He felt determined. He would get his friends back. 

This area was called the Neutral Zone, which he knew from the Nether book he read. All around him shipping workers hauled big carts of goods to and fro, and underneath his feet he felt a low vibration, which was the sound of a subterranean metro system making it’s nonstop rounds. The metro system wasn’t available for passenger use- it was for larger trade shipments. It led to an entirely separate area with a much larger portal; where the goods underwent a final inspection, were packaged onto trucks, and then were driven across to the Overworld. _So cool!!_

Almost instantly the boy found himself in a large courtyard. At the center, strange looking plants and trees towered up to a large signpost, that said “COME IN PEACE” in all capitals. _It’s not a request._ Tommy thought absently. Tunnels branched out from this center courtyard, seven to be exact. Each one was labeled with the name of a territory, translated into several different languages below (one of them was Enchanting Table language, the boy noted perceptively). He found the one that said _L’Manberg_ and his face glowed. 

He was about to make a break for the tunnel, happy with the amount of progress he had made so quickly, when something caught his eye. Turning his head to look, he saw a delivery man of average height and build, taking inventory of whatever was on his cart. Not really an unusual sight here, and it took him a minute to realize why he had stopped to look, but when he did he audibly gasped and ran over to the man. 

“Hey! You!”

The man looked up. “How can I help you, kiddo?”

“You’re wearing the same uniform that my friend wears! Do you happen to know anybody by the name of Wilbur Soot?” he said, panting. The man thought about it for a second. 

“Wilbur.. Soot. Hmm. I definitely don’t know him personally, if that’s what you’re asking. But if he works with the company I can look up his name.” He pulled a tablet out of his bag. 

“Yes! Yes thank you,” he exclaimed, “That would be great!” 

The man typed something in. 

“Wilbur Soot. ID number 291638. Been working in the company for four years. This him?” 

The man turned the tablet around and showed an old picture of Wilbur, looking smart in his uniform. Tommy nodded vigorously. 

“Well, it says his most recent delivery was to Rutabagville, status: undelivered. 

“Rutabagville? Where is that?”

“In L’Manberg.”

_What a terrible name._ “Undelivered, you say…”

“Yea, he’s really late. It was supposed to get there a week and a half ago.”

“He’s been missing. I’m trying to find him.”

The man put a consoling hand on his shoulder. “Oh… I have to finish this delivery. Good luck finding your friend.” 

“Thank you.” The man took up his cart and walked off. Tommy took a deep breath. That was good information- it confirmed his suspicions that Wilbur was delivering to L’Manberg- but it also confirmed his suspicions that Wilbur was indeed missing. Also, he didn’t realize L’Manberg had smaller districts within it. That was news. _The Nether is bigger than I thought._

He braced himself and walked through the tunnel marked _L’Manberg._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's starting to pick up!! and Tommy's such a smart boi lol


	11. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream tells Niki and Wilbur the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big chapter <3 poggers

Schlatt looked down at them from his spot at the window. The four of them were close together in the small cobblestone room. It had nothing in it but a few bed mats, a sink, a light, and a small bathroom closed off by a door. The bed mats took up most of the space on the floor, and they weren’t very large. Niki and Wilbur sat in one corner, keeping in close contact with one another (a brush of the hands, a bump of the shoulders, just something to reassure the other that they were really still there), while Dream sat with his legs outstretched and George’s head resting in his lap. The brunette was still unconscious, and this worried Dream deeply. He remembered their capture vividly- both he and Niki had been stabbed in the neck area by a needle, which must have been what knocked them out. George, however, was clubbed over the head with something, which probably did more damage. The blond worriedly caressed his partner’s hair, carding his fingers through the thick locks, a practiced and loving motion. When Schlatt appeared in the doorway, he stopped and glared up at him. 

“Why did you do that, huh? He was innocent. And has nothing to do with this,” 

Schlatt looked unimpressed, “Be glad I didn’t order him killed.” Dream quieted when he heard that. 

“Dream, who is this guy?” Wilbur asked. 

“Oh…” Schlatt rested his arms on the little windowsill, “Who am I? I’ll tell you who I am. I’m a very powerful, very upset man. You’ve upset me _deeply,_ do you know that, Dream? You’ve deeply upset the ruler of L’Manberg. Probably the strongest man in the whole Nether. And now you’re going to pay. You and your friends. Unless…”

Schlatt trailed off, and the silence rang through the air. His curved ram horns and his mutton chops outlined his face. The big man was wearing a suit, black and tailor-made, and in the quiet he folded his cuffs up slowly, not once breaking eye contact with Dream. 

Clay blinked. “Unless what?” 

“Get settled, why don’t ya?” _He didn’t answer the question,_ Dream thought nauseously. The man-ram turned and walked away, snapping his fingers at a guard he passed, who pulled down a shutter across the window. They could hear the _click, click, click_ of the man’s shoes fading into the distance. 

Niki spoke up, “Hey… um,” she began tentatively, “What’s going on?” 

Dream stared down at George’s peaceful face. It looked like he was sleeping very deeply. He sighed. _We have time._

“Okay. I suppose I owe you two an explanation, seeing as how I got you both kidnapped.” He turned to them, and they sat there expectantly. 

“Wilbur, what do you know about why I was in the forest?”

He shifted in his seat. “I know you had to get out there in a hurry, and that I couldn’t tell anyone where you went or bring anyone out to the house, except for Niki. I always figured you were running from something,” he continued, exasperated, “But I thought it was like, the police! I thought you were escaping jail time or something. I didn’t realize it was serious enough to be kidnapped over.” 

“Yeah. Yeah it’s that serious. What do you know, Niki?” 

“I knew you were running or hiding from something, and that’s it.” 

“Well. You’re right, I was hiding from something. Two years ago, I was the ringleader of an underground manhunt arena.” 

Niki gaped at him.

“You heard me right. A manhunt arena. Players would get sent into the ring and try to survive for as long as possible, while fighting other players. It would happen in front of a live audience- and people would pay handsomely for good seats at the arena. Not only that, they would place bets on who they thought would win. It was all illegal.

“You would be surprised at the type of people who turned up at my shows. Politicians, big business owners, ladies, criminals. The show brought together all walks of life, everybody there looking to see some deadly entertainment.” 

Niki looked sick, Wilbur did too. 

“It was all staged, of course. Nobody ever died.” 

The couple were relieved. 

“Yeah, of course. It was all just a show. A big act. The audience didn’t know that- they thought the battles and bloodshed were real- but truly the ‘victims’ were just actors who had to lay very still until it was over. When a player was slain, my workers would walk onto the stage and carry away the body, then the actor would stay out of sight until the last of the guests had gone home. The next time a show was held, the actors would come back- under a new name and a new outfit, so that nobody ever realized it was the same people- and play again. It was very efficient. And profitable.” 

“But,” Niki interjected, “How did the audience not realize it was the same person again and again? Wouldn’t they recognize the face?” 

“I solved that problem. All the players wore masks, as did I.” Dream thought fondly of his old mask, a white one with a very simple smiley face painted on. He wondered where it ended up. 

Dream went on, “Between the new mask, new name, and costume change nobody ever suspected it was the same person dying over and over. That is, nobody except for JSchlatt, the ruler of the Nether territory L’Manberg.

“Schlatt only showed up to two of my shows. That’s all it took for him to realize what was going on. I still don’t know how he did it. 

“He approached me after a show one day, pulled me close and whispered in my ear, describing to me loosely how I ran the show and what tricks I was using. I was appalled. He had found me out, and I had no idea how he did it. When he stopped whispering and pulled away he was wearing a big grin. 

“He spoke in a low voice: ‘I want you to tell me who’s gonna win every single show, and I want you to tell me at least a week in advance, of every single show.’ His smile was so wide. ‘I’m gonna get so rich.’ That’s what he said to me, word for word. I never forgot it. 

“So that was the deal. I would tell Schlatt who was going to win the next manhunt, he would place his bets and win, and that was that. He was getting almost as rich as I was, purely off of gambling. It went on like that for months. People started calling Schlatt ‘Gold Hand,’ because a bet placed by his hand always struck gold. I was worried about the fact people were starting to notice Schlatt’s luck. If people kept noticing Schlatt always won, then they would just start placing whatever bets Schlatt placed, and the gambling system would collapse. After all, if everyone places a bet on the same player, and that player wins, then nobody makes any money. The arena would lose its appeal, and my operation would crumble.”

Dream cringed at himself. “I was so greedy…” 

Wilbur and Niki said nothing. He continued, ashamedly: “I knew that if I wanted to continue to profit, I had to do something about Schlatt. I approached him late after a show once, and asked him if he could start making his bets in private. ‘People are noticing that you always win,’ I said, ‘It would be better if they didn’t know who you were betting on.’ But he said no. I guess he was just having too much fun at the shows, and didn’t see my request as a good enough reason to stop that fun. I tried a different tactic, imploring him to throw a couple of his bets. ‘Just to get people off your trail. And kill the hype a little,’ I said. But he just laughed, ‘And disappoint everybody? Buddy, admit it, half the reason people come to your show is because of me: the greatest gambler ever! Why would I throw that away?’ I guess he liked being Gold Hand too much to quit. The fame was really going to his head. I tried to continue arguing, but he put his hands on my chest…”

This next part he didn’t say out loud, although he remembered it pretty well. _Schlatt put his hands on my chest, pulling me close to him. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘have a couple of drinks with me!’ I couldn’t resist. I ended up getting really drunk, laughing and talking with the man. He had an irresistible charm. I almost forgot he was blackmailing me. We found ourselves in one of the backrooms, where the ‘dead’ actors always got carried away to. Nobody else was there. He took off my shirt, I took off his. The rest was a drunken blur._

“I slept with him. This was before I met George, mind you. At one point, he took off my mask and took a picture of my face. I didn’t even know he did it until much later.” 

“Is he gay?” Wilbur asked. Niki elbowed him lightly. 

“No. No he isn’t. He just wanted a picture of my face, and this was the easiest way for him to get it.” Dream felt bitter. Niki leaned forward and rubbed his arm soothingly, although she didn’t really have to. The gesture reassured him and he smiled faintly. 

“The next show was coming up soon, and my problem had not been resolved. All around me guests were talking about who they were going to bet on. The majority seemed to lean towards a player named ‘RunnerHeads.’ One of the guests, a young lady, walked up to me and spoke: ‘Placing any bets today, ringleader?’ ‘No, but it looks like everybody else is. I hear that RunnerHeads is favored?’ ‘Yes, of course. That’s who Gold Hand is betting on.’ That sealed the deal for me. I excused myself from the lady and walked down to where the basement, where the actors were preparing. ‘There’s been a few script changes,’ I said to them. 

“We went over the new changes twice before a chime rang upstairs. The show was beginning. I exited the basement and came into the arena through a special door, pushing curtains out of the way dramatically. Fog machines accompanied my entrance as well. It was all very theatrical. ‘HELLO LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND EVERY CREATURE IN BETWEEN! WELLLCCOOMMEEE TO THE ARENAAAA!’ The crowd cheered. ‘ARE YOU READY TO SEE THE MOST DANGEROUS, MOST BRUTAL, MOST ENTERTAINING SHOW OF YOUR LIFE!?’ a chorus of ‘yeah!’ was shouted by the audience. ‘Our player today: the one, the only, Electrica!’ One of my actors, dressed in an elaborate and shimmering silver costume, burst into the field from the left side of the arena. She waved her hands around and whooped, working the crowd. Scattered cheering and applause from the audience. I continued, ‘And for our MANHUNTER, our MURDERER, our resident MANIAC, we have RunnerHeads!’ This time, the cheering from the crowd was deafening. It was clear who was the fan favorite. I looked up to see the devil man-ram himself in the audience, smirking down at me like the cheering was for him and only him. I won’t lie, the sight scared me. 

“I went through all the formalities and nonsense- giving a brief description of the player and the hunter, describing a few tactical measures that could be used, and offering each their weapon of choice. Then the battle began. 

“Long story short, RunnerHeads lost. In the final moments of the battle, Electrica was down. She kicked out her legs and launched the man onto his back, and then she got to her feet. Standing above him, she made a big show of raising her sword into the air and stabbing him. Fake blood spurted out, and RunnerHeads played dead. 

“The cheering from the crowd was drowned out by disappointed groaning. Almost everyone had bet on RunnerHeads, because Schlatt had, so there were a lot of losers that night. No matter! That wasn’t that unusual to see after a fight, because of all the betting that took place. That didn’t really affect me. What _did_ affect me was the sight of Schlatt’s stony face. He had one of the front seats, so he wasn’t that far from me. He looked mad. I gave him a look like _it had to be done,_ figuring I would get a chance to explain after the crowds had died down a little. 

“What I didn’t know was that Schlatt had bet a LOT of money on that fight. Like, a million dollars. He was really pissed to have lost it. 

“He did not even hesitate. He went to the American government and showed them my face and the location of my arena. Before I knew it I was on the run.”

“What happened to the money?” Wilbur asked. 

“I took all I could carry and got out of there. The rest was confiscated by the government. Oh, and of course Schlatt received a large portion as well.” 

“Talk about the part where you met me,” a voice said from Clay’s lap. He looked down to see George, eyes half open, looking up at him. He was smiling genuinely at the blond, and the sight made his heart melt. 

“I was on the run,” Clay began tenderly, “and I didn’t know where to go. I snuck onto a train, no idea where it was going, nobody to turn to, and hiding from the government. Nothing but 500 dollars in my pocket.” 

“Pfft. Yeah 500 dollars is totally nothing.” 

Clay laughed. “It is when it's _all_ you have. The train took me all across America, but I wanted to get as far away as possible- so I waited until the last stop. It happened to be a little seaside town in Oregon.”

George smiled again. He knew where that was. 

“That’s where I met another ex-convict who goes by the name George Davidson. He was on the run as well, and had been for a while. What was the crime again?”

“Tax evasion.” 

“Ah, yes, tax evasion. The most boring crime of them all,” Clay teased.

“You’re right. I should have done something more exciting, like running an underground gambling ring.” The brunette’s voice was laced with sarcasm, but not harshly. 

“You have the sweetest sarcastic voice.”

“Finish the story!”

“Oh right, yes. Many nights the two convicts had to sleep outside, until a local once pointed us to an old church in the middle of the forest. We went up there and made that place a home. Turned the pews into beds and chairs, the main area into a living room, the storage rooms into bedrooms. The only thing that didn’t change much was the kitchen.” 

George’s eyes were almost fully opened now- but they still looked a little glazed, and probably would for a while. “Tell about the part where they fell in love.”

“The two men found that they really liked each other. Dream told George everything about his life and past, and George never judged him. Dream never felt like he had to lie or hide. George felt at home with him. They were good to each other, and good for each other, and they had something special. They stayed by each other’s sides.”

“And loved each other.” 

“Hehehe. Yeah, and they loved each other.”

The blond boy leaned down and kissed George on the mouth, fully and sweetly. There was a nice moment. Then Wilbur cleared his throat and they remembered where they were. _Oh, right._

The brunette sat up, wincing. 

“Wilbur! We found you,” George, said, rubbing his temples. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” Wilbur deadpanned. 

“Oh my head. I feel like my skull is splitting in two.”

“You got hit pretty hard,” Niki said, and Dream agreed. 

“Yeah, I’m surprised you woke up this soon.”

“What happened?”

“Schlatt captured us. He must have kidnapped Wilbur to lure me over, created an illegal portal, linked it to me, then ambushed us as soon as we came over.”

“Wait a minute,” Wilbur began, “It’s your fault I got kidnapped?”

“....Yes.” 

“Okay now that’s gonna put a dent in our friendship.”

“How did he link the portal to you?” interjected Niki, before the two men could get into a fight. 

“He must have gotten my DNA or something.” 

“Oh damn,” she said. 

“Yeah.”

“What do we do now?” 

“...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked. :) there are many more chapters to come!


	12. Friends

The boy had now been in the Nether for a few days. He’d just been asking around about his friends, careful with names and descriptions, so he didn’t accidentally dox them. The people here were varitating degrees of friendliness, with most of them just passing him by wordlessly or with a wave of the hand when he asked them something. But, there were a few people whose help he could not have gone without. Rutabagville was in the furthest corner of L’Manberg, which is information he acquired from one of the friendlier people. When he asked for a map, they laughed at him, and instead gave him directions to get there. 

“Mrs? Why did you laugh when I asked for a map?” Tommy asked her, just before they went their separate ways.

She smiled and asked him to take out one of his water bottles. He obliged. 

“Now pour a little on the ground. Not a lot! Just a few drops.” 

He did so. The water disappeared the moment it hit the floor, either dissolving into steam or soaking into the ground, the boy couldn’t tell. He stared at it in shock. 

“There’s a lot of strange things that happen in the nether,” The lady said, before winking at him and going on her way. 

He spent quite a few nights walking to his destination, all the while being on the lookout for his friends. He asked store owners and anyone who looked like they’d been there for a few days if they’d seen any sign of his friends, all said no. Once, he passed another person who wore the same uniform as Wilbur, but he wasn’t one of the friendly ones and refused to look up the delivery status on his tablet. _Whatever. I’ll just assume he’s missing until found._

Three days into his journey the boy was sleeping on the floor, on a rough patch of ground behind a few structures. Unnerved by the sight of the solid red sky, he was having trouble falling asleep. Plus- the Nether didn’t have day and night cycles like back home. It all felt so unnatural to him. 

Tossing and turning, exhausted, begging his eyes to fall closed, the boy heard laughter and talking from a little ways down. The voices sounded young- teenagers, like him! Suddenly excited he rolled over and peered into the distance, trying to find the source. It had been so long since he had been around people his own age. Dream and George were good company, and they had saved his life, so he felt a little ungrateful at the excitement that welled up inside him. Still, the voices called to him. He left his little encampment, scanning the area for potential thieves (and finding none), and walked down to where he thought he heard the people. 

Between two buildings, in a quiet alleyway, three people were huddled over a small fire. They were laughing, joking, and talking, and the fire looked so warm. True the Nether really got _cold_ per say, but fire was appealing to the human soul no matter what temperature it was outside. One of the people, a girl, spotted him and abruptly stopped talking. She singled to another that he was there and Tommy tried to duck out of sight (unsuccessfully). This caused them to giggle a little. 

“It’s okay. We know you’re there,” she called out to him. 

“You can come out!” a male voice said, “There’s plenty of fire to share.” 

Uncertainly, Tommy shifted out from behind the trash can he was ducking under. More giggling ensued. 

“What’s your name, man?” One of them asked, with a smile in his voice. 

“Tommy.”

“Mine’s Tubbo. And this is Alyssa and Drista.” He gestured to the other two people around the fire. Alyssa waved kindly, Drista looked amused. 

“Hello.” 

“Hello,” they replied. Tommy, convinced that these people were not murderers or anything, approached them. 

“See, you put your hands over the fire like this,” Drista took his wrists and held them close to the wooden campfire, and rested them on a smooth piece of metal. “That way, they won’t get burned, but they’ll stay warm.” 

She was right. A comfortable hotness reached his fingertips and spread up his arms. “Thank you. That’s nice.” 

“What brings you to this part of the Nether?” Tubbo asked. His cheeks were remarkably red, and his hair was kept short and away from his face. The brunette boy looked really young, Tommy thought, but not unwise. He looked into his eyes and recognized the expression. _You’ve seen a lot._ Tubbo stared back, and Tommy suspected he saw it too. _Like me._

“I’m looking for my friends.” 

Drista perked up. “Oh? What do they look like?” 

Tommy took out the ID card from his back pocket and showed it to them. He also took a moment to describe Niki, Dream, and Wilbur as best as he could. They all peered into the picture for a moment then leaned back, shaking their heads. _Damn_

“I have reason to believe they’re in Rutabagville.” 

“Rutabagville? There’s nothing out there but run-down living quarters. And a factory,” Alyssa said. Tommy was discouraged. _Wilbur must have been delivering to the factory. That seems so routine! So what happened to him?_

His thoughts were interrupted by Tubbo leaning behind him to grab a large poster. He was tearing off pieces and tossing them into the fire. The poster was a large red and blue picture, with the shading of a man in the foreground. The man had large horns curling out of the sides of his head, and he wore a black and white suit that stood out against the red. He was smirking confidently and had a finger pointed out toward whoever was looking at the poster. Text lined the top and bottom. _Vote SCHLATT. Vote DEMOCRACY._

Tommy had seen quite a few of those posters on his travels, most of them on the walls of buildings and a few in banner form hanging on the stands. He suddenly remembered Dream or somebody mentioning the name Schlatt before he left for the nether. 

“Hey… who is that?” Tommy asked, gesturing to Schlatt’s face. 

Drista looked surprised. “You don’t know? Wow, you really aren’t from around here. It’s Schlatt. The ruler of L’Manberg.” 

“Oh. Is he good?” 

Drista laughed again, and she was starting to get on the boy’s nerves. “Does it matter?” 

Alyssa clarified: “She’s saying it doesn’t matter because nobody else can get elected. Any other candidate who runs for president suspiciously has an ‘accident’ and dies before the election can take place. So Schlatt always wins by a landslide. It’s been this way for years.” 

“Oh.. So like a dictator.” Tommy winced. “That’s rough.”

“No kidding,” said Tubbo. 

The three of them talked late into the night. _It was so good to have company again,_ thought the boy, _It’s been weeks._ Alyssa and Tubbo took to him better than Drista did, who apparently was a little distrustful. She warmed up eventually, albeit slowly, and by the end of the night she was laughing lightly and even joking along with them. She was smiling at him when she yawned largely. 

“I’m gonna hit the sheets.”

“Me too,” Said Alyssa, “Night y’all.” 

The two girls ducked into a little tent at the end of the alleyway and disappeared. Now it was just Tommy and Tubbo. 

The blond boy asked something that was weighing on his mind. “Are you three homeless?” 

Tubbo answered, “Homeless is a strong word. Are we without permanent housing? Yes. Do we have nowhere to go? Not at all! The world is our oyster! There are lots of places to be and stay, lots of places to get shelter and food. Between the three of us, we have lots of friends, too. Things are okay here. Life is alright.” He smiled. “Plus, if we’re ever in need of money there’s always a small job for someone to work here or there. We’ve never gone hungry.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah. Say, man, I really like you. You… remind me of myself,” He looked down when he said this. “I wanna help you. I’ll take you to Rutabagville.” 

Tommy brightened immediately. “Really? Thank you! That would be a nice help.” 

“Yeah, sure thing. We should leave first thing tomorrow. It’s a day journey on foot.” 

“Okay. Will Alyssa and Drista come?” the boy asked. 

“Alyssa probably won’t. She’s got a job on the west side tomorrow, helping a delivery company with a particularly complicated order. But Drista might, if she wants too.” 

“She doesn’t seem to like me a whole lot.”

“She was just being cautious. It’s good practice.” 

“Hmm. Okay,” He looked down at the remains of the Schlatt poster on the floor. “I should go to sleep too, then. I left my stuff not too far away.” He nodded in the general direction of his supplies. 

“You what? You just left it there?” 

“Well. Not completely exposed,” Tommy defended himself, “It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

“You sure have a lot of faith in the world.”

“You do too.” 

They shared a look. Tubbo stomped out the fire. 

“Goodnight, Tommy.” 

“Goodnight, Tubbo,” and the rosy cheeked boy disappeared underneath a tent. Tommy took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the campfire, and left the alleyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	13. Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy's quick-thinking backfires :(

The next morning Tommy returned to the alleyway. The firepit had been re-lit, and the scent of something cooking filled the air. It looked like eggs and some kind of meat, but the spices and vegetables were unknown to him. Despite that, his stomach growled appreciatively. 

“What is that?” 

“Ah, good morning!” Tubbo patted him on the back affectionately. “It’s chicken eggs and hoglin belly. With mushrooms.” 

“Wow, fancy! What are the red flakes?” 

“Crimson roots.” 

“Sounds good. You must be a good cook.” _Just like George,_ the boy thought with a pang. 

“Eh, I get by. Morning, Drista!”

She emerged from a tent, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Morning. Hi Tommy.” He said hello back. 

“Any sign of Alyssa?”

“No, she had to leave early for that job.” 

“Aw.. She missed breakfast.” 

The food was ready and served, and the three of them sat around the fire and ate contentedly. When they were finished, they packed the place up and Tubbo started putting together a bag. 

“Where are you off to?” asked Drista. 

“Rutabagville. Gonna drop Tommy off there. Wanna come?”

“Sure. Ain’t got nothing better to do,” she replied as she kicked at the ground nonchalantly. The three of them set off.

\---

“I know you two are probably sick of it, but I still have a few questions about Netheria.”

“Oh, nobody calls it that anymore. It’s just ‘the Nether,’” said Drista, as they passed a group of Piglins arguing loudly. 

“Oh. Well in that case what’s _New Netharia_?” 

“It’s a territory. When Netharia collapsed, a group of people from the old government and military tried to bring the country back together. They were calling it _New Netharia_.” Tubbo looked down, watching his footing on an uneven patch of ground. “The goal was to reunite the Nether- but it never came to fruition. They just ended up creating a small territory. Over time, the lack of resources caused a lot of people to disband the area. It’s pretty desolate now; there’s almost nothing there.” 

Tommy hummed in interest. “One more question, then I swear I’m done. I’ve seen a lot of people not wearing any gold, but the Piglins don’t attack them. Why is that?”

“At first they did, but over time they just learned not to, I guess. Over the course of a couple centuries,” Drista answered, “They sort of evolved and adapted to accommodate humans. Now the two species live in a strange harmony.” 

_That’s so cool._ Drista snorted a couple of times, in a strange pattern. A piglin not far away looked up. 

“That’s how you say ‘Hello’ in Piglin,” Said the girl, smiling cheekily. 

“No, no, no. That’s not how. That’s not what that is,” Tubbo interrupted, as Drista laughed. “You need to wash your mouth, ya know that?” 

“You speak piglin?!? That’s so cool! Wait, what did she say?” 

“Nothing repeatable, that’s for sure. Curse words mostly,” he said as he playfully put a hand over Drista’s mouth. She giggled nefariously. 

“Okay, but actually, can you teach me how to say hello in Piglin? That might be useful,” Tommy asked. 

“Sure. It’s _snoooRT._ ” said Tubbo.

“Like, _snoooort_?” 

“Kinda. Put more emphasis on the end. _SnoooRT_.” 

“ _SnoooRT_.”

“Yeah. _SnoooRT_.” 

“ _SnoooRT_ ,” said Drista. 

“ _SnoooRT_ ,” said Tommy. 

“ _SnoooRT_ ,” said Tubbo.

“ _SnoooRT_. _SnoooRT_.” said Drista. 

“ _SnOOOrt_ ,” Said Tommy again. 

“Oh God NO!!!” Said Tubbo, as Drista fell into another fit of laughter. 

“Wait, what did I say? What did I say!?!?” 

“Not hello,” replied Tubbo, between gasps of wheezing laughter. Tommy giggled too, despite himself. 

_I never thought I’d have fun like this again,_ thought the boy. He glanced toward the red, stone sky. _All thanks to you, Technoblade._

\---

It was mid-afternoon (according to a clock, because the Nether didn’t really have a daylight cycle) when Tubbo stopped abruptly and put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. He nodded in a direction where a police officer was standing, watching them intently. Two more police officers appeared, all wearing official L’Manberg uniforms. _They weren’t just regular patrolling officers, these are the real deal._

“Are they coming towards us?” Tommy said under his breath, and without moving his lips. Drista caught on quickly. 

“We need to keep moving,” She whispered, and they did. “Are you on the run?”

“No. I don’t think so.” The boy noticed another officer, standing off to the side. It was the same man who processed him into the Nether. Fearing that he’d been caught for using a false identity, he panicked. “Shit. I’m gonna run-” 

But it was too late. Two officers stepped in front of him and grabbed him by his shoulders. He tried to twist out of their grip, but it was no use. 

“George Davidson, you are under arrest for tax evasion. You have the right to remain silent.” 

Tommy’s heart sank. “Wait, no! You’ve got the wrong guy, I’m not George Davidson!” 

The police officer cuffing the boy turned to the man who let Tommy into the Nether. “You sure this is the guy? He looks too young to be paying taxes.” 

“Oh I’m sure. I never forget a face. That’s him.” 

Tommy protested, but his pleas went unheard. _Tax evasion? What?!?_ He looked around for his friends and didn’t see them. Drista and Tubbo must have seen the amount of officers and smartly gotten out of there. The boy didn’t exactly blame them, but he still felt a little hurt at how quickly they’d left. 

“I’m really not George Davidson! I was using a fake ID!” Tommy tried again, but the officers didn’t listen. The worst part was that he was telling the truth. The boy was led away by the shoulder.

“Easy, there,” one of the men said as he strapped Tommy to the back of a Hoglin. The beast reared half-heartedly and snorted, shaking the boy around. “I can’t believe we have to use these things. The budget cuts this year are incredible. I’m a police officer, I should get a car! Unbelievable,” the man grumbled as he hopped up onto the animal. He checked to make sure Tommy was secure, shushing the boy’s protests, and then faced forward. He cracked a whip and the Hoglin whined, before trotting off in a direction. They rode off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> muaahahahahhaha I am so evil. also, I started a Dream SMP Fic Requests series. If you have any fic requests related to the Dream SMP comment them there and I will take a look at them!!!


	14. An Arrangement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here this far into the story, I commend you. Thanks for sticking around! <3 and know there will be much more to come :) the daily updates will continue !

Dream paced the little area of his cell. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this. I’m so sorry guys, I never thought this could have happened.” He turned to his friends and lover, sitting together on one of the ‘beds’ and leaning against the wall. 

“It’s not your fault, really. You couldn’t have known any of this was going to happen. Just come sit down, we’ll find a way out of this. Right Wilbur?” Niki, who had spoken, turned to her husband with pleading eyes. He huffed noncommittally. 

“Oh come on, Wilbur!” the blonde girl exclaimed. “Don’t you know that Dream only came over here to try to find you? Because I asked him to!” 

The delivery man looked up into Dream’s green eyes. “Is this true?” 

Dream confirmed. 

“You had no reason to, because you didn’t know I had been kidnapped then. You didn’t even know it was your fault. Why didn’t you just let it go?” 

The blond boy looked intensely into his eyes. “I wasn’t gonna leave my friend behind. I know he would’ve done the same for me.” 

Wilbur looked away. “I can forgive you. But not because of me, because of Niki.” This next part he said more quietly: “It’s nice to know there’s someone looking out for her.” 

“You look out for me too, Wilbur. You’re there for me all the time.” 

“I’m just a delivery boy, Niki.” 

Niki grabbed his face tenderly. “You’re everything to me.” She kissed him, and Dream and George looked away respectfully. 

“So, are we cool?” Dream asked, after their moment was over. 

“Yeah, we’re cool. Come sit down.” Wilbur scooted over to make space for Dream, who sat down between him and George. They were all quiet for a few minutes.

“I wonder what he wants,” George said, breaking the silence. 

“I wish I knew. I would give it to him.” 

As if on cue, the door to the cell opened. There stood the man-ram, horns sharpened and eyes glinting in the light, with two security guards behind him. Dream momentarily thought of rushing him, figuring in a 4v3 he had good odds, but figured he wouldn’t get very far. After all, he didn’t even know where he was. 

“Come with me, Dream,” his roaring voice beckoned. Dream stood, begrudgingly.

“What do you want, Schlatt?” 

He laughed. “Oh, just a little walk with an old friend.” 

Seeing no other real option besides blatant resistance, he walked out the cell door. _Maybe if I just play along I can figure out what he wants and go home._ It shut behind him, and the guards flanked him on either side, boxing him in. 

“Long time, no see!” Schlatt boomed, charismatic as always. Dream did not respond. 

“I see you’re upset. Not as much as I am, of course.” The words sharply contrasted the man’s wide smile. “You should be scared.”

“I’m not.” 

“Then be scared for your friends, if not for yourself.” 

Schlatt shoed the guards away with a flick of his wrist. They looked a little uncertain, so Schlatt repeated the gesture, this time more aggressively. Reluctantly they moved away from Dream, trailing ten feet or so behind him. Schlatt sidled up to the blond man and put an arm around his shoulder. 

“This is my palace! My castle! My domain,” he said, spinning a little and gesturing theatrically with his hands. It reminded Dream of when he used to be a ringleader. He would employ similar movements to keep the audience’s eyes on him. _What is this guy up to._

“It’s a nether fortress, in case you haven’t noticed. Very far away from the rest of L’Manberg, and with the best security in the whole territory. These guards you see are certainly not the only ones here. Not to mention I have about 200 Piglins working here, all _very_ loyal to me, the ruler of their beautiful country. They’re the only ones who really know their way around this maze of a palace.” 

“Why are you telling me all this?” 

“I just wanted to make it clear there’s no way for you to escape.” 

Dream gritted his teeth. “Okay. So get to the point. What do you want?” 

“HA ha hA! All in good time, my impatient bastard friend.” The hand returned to Dream’s shoulder. “Let’s go this way.” 

The man-ram led him down a long hallway, windowless and bleak. Dream genuinely wondered how Schlatt knew his way around this place. _He must have just had a lot of time to get familiar with the fortress._ One time, at a turn, the blond boy followed Schlatt’s eyes. He saw them dart up to the corner of an entryway, momentarily. Dream looked where he did, and although he only had a millisecond, he noticed a small marking. It was almost imperceptible unless you were looking at it- a little XI carved into the stone. _Ah, the corridors are labeled!_ Dream starting taking mental notes of which ones they passed, and which ways they turned. _Corridor 6, left. Corridor 2, right. Corridor 43, left,_ and so on and so forth. He passed a room between halls 43 and 5 (the corridors were not labeled in order), and he smelled something sharp, earthy, and rotten. _Soul sand and nether wart. That must be where their nether wart garden is. Most probably, everything they’re growing is in the same place. So that way is the gardens._ Those kinds of plants can grow indoors, so there’s no real reason to suspect that that way leads to the outside world. Still- it was a start. 

They took a few more turns before they ended up in a large ballroom, with a glass window covering an entire wall. The window showed off a sea of red netherrack that flowed away in all directions- not unlike any other sight in the nether- but it was impressive nonetheless. 

“You are a tough man to find. You hide well,” said Schlatt, “In fact, you have a lot of redeeming qualities. You’re smart, you’re crafty, you know how to work a crowd, you’re good with people. You’re a top tier liar. You don’t give a damn about the law or any rules, really.” 

“Those are all redeeming qualities?” 

“For my purposes, yes.” 

“And what exactly are your purposes?” 

“Well…” Schlatt took a seat at a table, facing the window. He gestured for Dream to do the same, who declined. 

“My public opinion right now is… Subpar to say the least. The people of L’Manberg don’t really like me, even though I’m such a great ruler and have done so much for the country.” 

Dream listened intently. _I doubt some of that, but okay._

“I need someone who will fix that. The people need to see just how good of a president I am. None of my previous guys have been able to do it. No amount of posters or rallies have worked. I need something else, something stronger.”

Schlatt crossed his legs. “You want your friends to get free?”

“I do,” said Dream. 

“Then make the people love me. Make them love me by any means necessary.” His words had an air of finality to them. 

“What?!? That’s insane. How am I gonna get an entire nation to start liking you? I can’t do that-”

Schlatt stood abruptly, cutting the blond boy off. He got close to Dream’s face. 

“Need I remind you of the position you’re in? You stole from me. I lose millions of dollars because of you- you- you cheated me! Nobody, I say NOBODY cheats Jonathan Schlatt and gets away with it,” he grabbed the front of Dream’s shirt, his breath coming down hot and heavy in Dream’s face. He smelled of cologne and spices. 

“I know you can do it. I know what you're capable of. Come live here, and work with me. Stay in the fortress. Stay in my palace. What’s mine will be yours.” His voice dropped to a whisper: “You and I? We would be unstoppable. The most powerful duo in the world. Schlatt and Dream. You would never need anyone else.” 

Confusion and suspicion seeped into Dream’s eyes. “I would never need anyone else?” 

Schlatt said nothing, just looked at him intensely. 

Dream got brave suddenly, sensing the ball was in his court. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, voice level. 

“I mean it would be us.” 

“I’m still confused.” 

“I’m saying you would never need anything else!” he was almost shouting now. “It would be us! I would tend to your every need.”

Somehow, this was starting to feel like a little more than a work proposal. The hands clutching Dream’s shirt loosened their hold. They slid ever so slightly downward. Schlatt layed a flat palm on Dream’s chest, and wrapped the other one around his shoulder. “I know about your needs… you already know I can fulfill them. Remember?” 

The blond boy shoved him away. “You disgust me. I’m _not_ an animal. I am in love, and it’s not with you. It will never be with you.” 

Schlatt laughed loudly, recovering quickly. “That isn’t what you told me so long ago. In fact, I remember you _begging for more-_ ” 

Dream hit him in the face. Hard. The guards moved forward, but Schlatt held up a hand to stop them. He rubbed his jaw and stood fully. “Fine. That part is of the least importance for me. I thought it would be a business perk.” Then he added, “Truthfully I don’t even like men.”

“That’s not what you told me so long ago.” Dream said, and held Schlatt’s gaze. 

“You’re sharp. And an asshole. But you’re an admirable man, I have to say.” 

“You’re just a prick.”

“I’m an admirable man. A powerful man. Admit it! Look around you, look out there,” he faced the window. “This is my domain. Admit it, I’m great.” 

“I would never say that.” 

“Then admit this: WE would be great.” 

Dream didn’t, but in his heart he knew it was true. _We would be unstoppable,_ he thought, as temptation swelled in his chest.

“Think about my offer. If you take it, you free your friends- and you won’t have to run from the law anymore. Decline, and spend the rest of your life rotting in a jail cell.” 

Before Dream could answer, or even really think about it, one of the security guards spoke up. “Sir, one of your troops found a criminal by the name of George Davidson. They brought him in for processing.” The blond boy’s eyes flashed with confusion. 

“Why would you interrupt such an important discussion to tell me that?” asked Schlatt. 

“Well, we already have a George Davidson in our custody.” 

“It’s probably just a processing error or something. Put him in a cell.” 

“Yes sir.” The guard spoke into a radio. Moments later, a young boy was carried past the doorway. Over the shoulder of a guard, Tommy and Dream’s eyes met. 

The disturbance ended and Schlatt turned back to Dream. “Ah, yes. Where were we?” 

“I’ll do it.” 

The man-ram paused for a second, then grinned a pearly, devilish smile. “I knew you’d say that. Power is so tempting, isn’t it?” 

Dream only felt despair and panic. _I’m not betraying you, George. I swear. This isn’t a betrayal. Nor is it a sacrifice of my morals. It’s for Tommy, this is all for Tommy. I won’t really help Schlatt, I’ll only pretend to help him long enough to get the boy out of here. I swear._

Schlatt patted his back. “I’ll send your friends home now. I assume you’ll want to say goodbye since you won’t be able to see them again after this.” 

_We’ll see about that, devilman._ “Yeah, that would be good.” 

“You and I, man?” Schlatt said, and the sea of netherrack seemed to sweep out even further than before, “We’re gonna make HISTORY!”


	15. They'll Meet Again

Tommy was not treated very nicely by any of the law enforcement. He was pushed, pulled, kicked, and berated the whole journey to the Nether Fortress. When he got there his bag was taken away from him (his precious, precious bag filled with supplies and an axe and George’s ID card), and he was stripped of his clothes and given new ones. Two of the guards took the maps he had in his pocket, the ones he had torn out of the book, and unfolded them to see if there was anything of value there. When they saw the contents of the papers they laughed ingeniously. 

“What’s so funny?” Tommy asked, not expecting an answer. After all, none of his other questions like ‘where are we going?’ and ‘can I speak to a lawyer?’ got any acknowledgement or response. So he didn’t exactly expect this one to.

“These maps are so ridiculously outdated. Were you seriously using these to get around?” said a guard. 

“Hey, wait, I actually recognize these! They look like the ones from our middle school textbooks, remember that, man?” said the other. 

“Oh my God they are! These must be like 40 years old. I haven’t seen a map with the Badlands on it in so long.” 

“Yeah. That’s insane, actually.” He scoffed and turned away. “Badlands…” he trailed off, as if it were some joke. 

Under normal circumstances Tommy would have asked what happened to the Badlands. But these circumstances were no longer normal! They hadn’t been for a long time- They hadn’t been since he and his family stepped foot on that cargo ship. Since then, life has just been one unanswered question after the next. Mystery after mystery for the poor boy, and never any clarity. And whenever he _did_ manage to get an answer out of somebody, it just created more questions! He had no idea what was going on. In his life in general. 

This is what was going through Tommy’s head as he threw off his shirt, pants, and shoes and put on a standard grey canvas outfit, which fit him way worse than George’s old clothes did. He squirmed uncomfortably at the feeling of canvas on skin. _Who thought this would be a good idea._ He mentally grumbled, as he adjusted the clunky and uncomfortable shirt. At this point he was fed up. With everything. With the Nether, with Dream Wilbur Niki Tubbo George Drista, with all the mysteries, with being lost, with _feeling_ lost, with EVERYTHING! With the whole universe. His mood and mental health could not have been lower, when the guards started to laugh at his old maps. _You bastards. Those maps were all I had. It was literally my only option. I had to make do, you asshole buffoons. You selfish stupid asshole idiots. Do you know what I’ve been through? Could you have any idea what I’ve gone through? And if you did know, do you think you could’ve done the same? I don’t think you could have. You stupid little ignorant spoiled asshole little ugly idiot cucks-_ the slew of mental insults could have gone on for hours, but one of the guards reached into a pocket in Tommy’s old clothes. He pulled out a shiny, silver compass. 

“HEY!” Tommy yelled, suddenly frantic. The two guards sensed his change of tone and looked up abruptly. “DON’T TOuch THAT!” the boy’s voice cracked with desperation and fear. “DON’T YOU TOUCH THAT! LEAVE THAT ALONE!!!” he screamed. The guards’ faces turned cold, a practiced move. They must have to deal with unhappy or angry people quite regularly given their line of work. So quite easily both of them transitioned from casual talking to silence and seriousness. The boy almost wished he hadn’t started yelling, that way the men would have kept their guards down, but it wasn’t an entirely voluntary move. 

The guards put the compass onto a pile with other valuable-looking items. 

“NO!” the boy yelled again, “No wait! You’re supposed to leave it with my other belongings! For when I get out!” 

“Your belongings are getting thrown away.” One guard said. “Anything valuable goes into this pile- to be confiscated by the government. Anything invaluable is thrown away. Tough luck, kiddo.” 

“But- But- what if you’ve got the wrong guy? Won’t I get a trial? Or anything?!?” The boy’s voice was soaked with pain. It seems all his emotions decided to show themselves at once. 

A guard laughed bitterly. Tommy’s stomach sank and his skin crawled. 

“You’re not getting a trial. And you’re not getting out. Welcome to L’Manberg.” A guard said. The other man looked down solemnly. 

The boy sobbed suddenly, and tears gushed down out of his face. It was such intense crying that the water rolled away and hit the floor with little _plink_ noises. He looked down with blurred vision as they fell. His cheeks and chin were immediately wet.

The guards must have still had some heart in them left, because the crying didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Please. I lost my parents,” he brokenly wailed. “I lost my parents!” He realized he was unintelligible, and he willed his voice to be steady enough to speak. It was still really hard to understand. “I lost my parents. They’re dead. My parents are dead. They died so horribly- they drowned.” 

The guards listened but did not look. 

“All I have left of them is that compass. It’s from one of the lifeboats of the ship that they drowned on. It was called _The SMP_.” His voice and hands shook. “It’s all I have of them. It’s all I have. Please, please, please let me have it. Or hide it somewhere that I can know where it is. Don’t throw it away. Don’t sell it. Please, I beg you.” 

The shaking trailed up his arms and spread to the rest of his body. The boy shuddered uncontrollably. “Please, please, please, please, please,” he begged. 

The guards let him have a moment, before one of them spoke up: “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. Protocol-” But he was silenced by a hand from the other guy. 

“Listen kiddo,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise you’ll get to keep it. But I’ll hold it here for you as long as I can.” 

“Ah, oh, Oh thank you. I- I’m so grateful. But I can’t seem to stop crying. Or shaking.” The words were choked out between sobs and hiccups. “I’m so grateful. Please, don’t let anything happen to it. If it comes to it then- then take it home yourself. Take it home and keep it- keep it some-where safe for the r- rest of your life. It’s it-’s it’s- all- all- all I ha-ve of the-m.” The last sentence had dissolved into fragmented muttering. 

“Okay, time to get him into a cell, he needs to calm down.” 

“Yep.” And the two guards lifted the boy up by the shoulders. They carried him down long corridors of nether fortress brick. Tommy noticed the material- recognized it- and realized the reason he knew what it looked like was because of that nether book, the one he had taken those outdated maps from. The little detail calmed him down quite a bit. _See, that book wasn’t entirely useless. I learned some things. I know some things._ Truth be told, it made him feel less like he was completely helpless. He focused on the walls, floor, and ceiling of the corridors- noting that it was all the same material. _I’m in a Nether Fortress/Prison, in the Nether. See, I’m not lost. I know exactly where I am._ He paused a second. _Okay, that was a lie, I’m lost. But I do know where I am._ He hesitated again, thinking. _Okay, I’m lost and I don’t know where I am. But I’ll get out of this. I will! I’m Tommy. I got this._ His thoughts cheered him up a little, although he felt they might have been a little untrue. 

“Mr. Security guard, sir?” He spoke to the man who said he would keep the compass as safe as he could. 

The man he addressed sputtered: “Security guard? I am a federal officer, thank you very much. Show some respect for the government.” 

“I’m very sorry, Sir.”

“It’s okay.” 

“I just wanted to say, if you lose the compass, I don’t want to know. I’m just going to assume it’s safe in your hands forever. You will keep it safe, won’t you?” the boy implored. 

The security gu- _federal officer_ let out a deep sigh. “I’ll try, son. I really will.” 

“Thank you. It’s all I have left of my parents.” 

“You mentioned that already.” 

“I just wanted to make sure you knew.” 

The man’s eyes looked heavy. 

It seemed to Tommy that they had been walking forever. He had passed quite a few different doors, but all had been shut (and probably locked). Other than that they were just moving from corridor to corridor. He wondered how the guards knew their way. 

At one point the boy heard voices drifting down the hall. One of them was oddly familiar to him. They kept moving, and realized the source of them was a door left wide open. It was a few meters away now, and the voices were louder and clearer. _Huh, why is that one man so familiar? Who is that, is that Tubbo?_ He was suddenly very alert. They walked past the doorway, only for a second. 

The second slowed down: 

The boy saw a huge ballroom with a big window at the end of one wall, and a lot of red. A few chairs were in the center of the room, facing away from him, all unoccupied. He saw two men standing in the center of the room. One had dark hair and his clothes were all one color, and one had light hair. The light haired man looked into his eyes as he passed. The boy recognized him. It was Dream. 

He was pulled past the doorway and could no longer see the man. He heard the end of the conversation. 

“Where were we?” said the unfamiliar voice.

“I’ll….” said Dream, and the rest was out of earshot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, how it's all coming together so nicely!!!!! I can't wait for you all to see the next part :) once again, thank you so much for reading. It really makes my day to see that someone cares about what I have to say.
> 
> ps: I love to see your comments! after all, I care about what you have to say as well. :)


	16. Secret Messages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're about to hit 100 kudos. Thank you so much everyone :)

George, Wiblur, Niki, and Dream were all being held in Schlatt’s private prison. That’s why they weren’t given new clothes and they never saw any other inmates. Tommy, on the other hand, did not get any special treatment. He was taken to the communal prison. 

Because Tommy was in a separate prison from the others, he never saw any of them. He only saw Dream, and for a very brief second. But it was enough to fill him with hope. Enough to keep him going, for the time being. The image of the man’s green eyes were seared into the back of the boy’s head. There were other pictures back there, too. One was his home- the one he and his family lived in. One was his mother, looking down at him because he was small (it was an old memory). Another was the sea. He saw Techno’s hair. He saw the church-house. And he saw Dream’s green eyes. The pictures were those memories that seemed to ingrain themselves so deeply in his head. They cycled through his mind like his blood cycles through his body and air cycles through his lungs. They moved through him like brushfire. Some kept him warm, others burned. They burned. 

_Fight!_ Technoblade yelled. 

He saw pink. 

He saw red. 

_FIGHT!_

They burned.

\---

George, Niki, and Wilbur were all asleep when two of Schlatt’s security guards came into their room loudly and abruptly. One kicked Wilbur in the side to wake him up, and Niki instinctively flung out a hand and shoved the guard away.

“Wh-” Wilbur mumbled groggily, as he came to consciousness. George was already up and assessing the scene, and Niki was staring down the guard who kicked Wilbur. She seemed to be having some sort of a mental battle, locking eyes with the brute-ish fellow. Fierceness seeped out of her in waves. _Not my husband,_ she thought calmly. _You can kidnap me, imprison me, hurt me, even take away my skin and bones but you can NEVER. NEVER EVER hurt my man. I draw the line here._

The guard looked like he was going to plant another kick to Wilbur’s side, but he realized that by doing so he would sacrifice Niki’s complacency. _She’s not going to take that lightly, apparently._ He decided against it. 

The guard spoke, commanding and offensive: “Get up, the three of you.” 

They were all already awake and standing. He continued, “You’re going to be released. President Schlatt has graciously decided that.” 

“Where’s Dream?” asked George.

“Who?” 

“The man, with blond hair and green eyes, about this tall,” George raised his hand a foot above his head. “He was in here with us.”

“Ohhh, Schlatt’s new boy. He isn’t coming with you, he’s staying here. Gonna be the new ‘relations manager’ whatever that means.” The guard sounded uninterested. 

The brunette’s face lit up in anger. _Schlatt’s new boy? What does that mean. Why did he say it like that._ “What do you mean by that?” he deadpanned. 

The guard did not answer the question. “Come on, now! I don’t have all damn day- I got work to do! Get the hell up and out of this cell, NOW!!” 

The three of them were shuffled out of the cell. It was a long walk to a room with a single Nether portal, where the trio found Dream and Schlatt standing side by side. A piglin noticed the cue and moved forward to light the portal. He fumbled with flint and steel over an obsidian surface. 

“Dream!” George yelled, and ran forward into the blond boy’s arms. They embraced. 

“Dream, what’s happening? What’s going on?” he pulled back from the hug to see a grim expression on the taller boy’s face. “What did you do? Clay? Clay, oh Clay, what did you do?” 

“I did what had to be done. For you. For Wilbur and Niki. And for Tommy.” The taller man willed George to understand the meaning behind his words. “For Tommy,” he said again, this time putting emphasis on the name. The brunette sensed that Clay was trying to tell him something, and he listened intently, but was lost. 

“The boy Tommy, safe at home…” George repeated strategically. 

“Not safe,” said Dream. 

“What was that?” piped up Schlatt. _Oh God,_ though George as his stomach sank, _The boy isn’t safe. What happened to him?_ He looked over to see the man-ram was also trying to decipher Dream’s words, listening for any hidden meanings as attentively as he was. Dream and George had to choose their words very carefully. “Who isn’t safe and why?” Schlatt asked again. 

“I mean, he’s not safe without George,” Dream clarified. “Tommy’s our boy. _He will be safe when George gets home._ ” The brunette heard the tone shift. He was starting to put some pieces together. 

_Okay- Dream needs to send us ‘home’ in order to help Tommy. But, of course, there’s no way I’m going home now. Schlatt will know where we live and be able to come find us. We can’t go home, we have to pretend to live elsewhere._ The shorter man was puzzled. _But where?_

“Safe at our home in Dry Waters,” Dream added. 

_AH! He wants us to go to Dry Waters._ George understood. _Wait, let me ask him something._

“Dry Waters is a very fun place to live. But it would become miserable without you there.” 

Dream’s eyes lit up with hope. _He understands!!_ the blond boy thought. “A very Fun place indeed,” his words were wistful, his eyes were hopeful. 

_That’s as good of a confirmation as I’m gonna get. Fundy’s place it is._ thought the man with satisfaction. 

“My love, why did you do this? We could’ve been together. We could have found a way out of this, together,” George’s eyes lit up tenderly. 

Dream couldn’t help it- he beamed with pride. _Look how my sweetheart sells the act. There is no man like him in the whole world. He’s the finest, most loyal, most incredible creature._ With the thoughts, Dream’s chest swelled with warmth and devotion. _I’m getting out of here, and I’m bringing our boy too. Just you wait, Georgie. Just hang in there. I’m getting out of here for YOU. For us._

“I’m sorry. I had to do this. I had no choice.” Truth seeped into his words. Dream held the man’s chest firmly, and fought the urge to kiss him. Their eyes met and frantic, unspoken words passed between the two of them. 

“Will I ever see you again?” asked George. _Will Schlatt let us talk again?_ was what he really meant. 

“No, I’m afraid not,” came the reply. 

“Ah. And will you be true to me?” The brunette fought to keep truth out of his words, but they got in. _Is he keeping you as some sort of catamite? I’ll kill him if he is…_

“I will try,” was the response. _Lord, I will try. But if it becomes necessary to save the boy, then I will do what I must do._

“True in your heart, then. Promise to be true in your heart.” 

“I promise that.” _Of course I promise that._

They kissed lovingly. 

Niki put her hands over her mouth- out of compassion for their gesture- and Wilbur put an arm around her shoulders. 

Schlatt looked angry. “That’s enough!” he bellowed, cutting the kiss short. “You’ve had enough time. I hate long goodbyes, anyways.” 

“Goodbye, George. And Niki and Wilbur. But mostly George,” Dream whispered. His attempt at a joke quickly crumbled. 

“Goodbye, Clay.” 

“Okay, where to?” asked Schlatt. The piglin finally managed to light the portal, and he took a few steps away from it as a purple glow filled the frame. 

“Didn’t you hear us earlier? Our home is in Dry Waters.” George replied. Schlatt looked suspicious. 

“If your home is in Dry Waters, why did you come from the Overworld to the Nether? Like, originally.” 

“We were visiting Niki and Wilbur,” George said, without thinking. _Shit!_

“Ah, so your two friends live in the overworld. Well then, they can pass through and go home.” Schlatt gestured to the portal dramatically. “Where. To?” he declared, clearly starting to get a little impatient. 

_Don’t say Oregon, don’t say Oregon, don’t say Oregon._

“The Badlands,” said Wilbur, smartly. Dream and George both let out a sigh of relief they didn’t know they had been holding. 

“Ew,” said Schlatt. He turned to Dream, “You’re friends with Badlanders? That’s… interesting.”

“What’s wrong with the Badlands?” Niki asked. 

“Well,” Schlatt began, still facing Dream, “I just expected more from a man of your caliber.” 

George did _NOT_ like the way Schlatt was looking at him. 

He snapped his fingers at a poor piglin, who came forward and started tapping something on a panel connected to the side of the portal. He grunted when he was finished. 

“Get out now.” Schlatt said. Wilbur and Niki said one last goodbye to Dream and George, then went through the portal. They disappeared into an indigo swirl.

 _They should be safe in the Badlands, at least for now,_ speculated Dream. _I’m almost 100% sure the Devilman will have somebody following them, at least for a little while. As long as they don’t return home for some time they should be okay. Wilbur is smart, and Niki is level-headed. Between the two of them, they’ll know what to do._ He paused and turned to his beloved. _That takes care of Wilbur and Niki. In a way, we got done what we came here to do._

“Okay, now for you, brown-hair,” Schlatt addressed George. “This Piglin,” A piglin stepped forward, “Will take you to Dry Waters. I know you don’t know where the fortress is- its very well hidden. But if you do somehow find out, and you return here? You will be immediately killed. You understand me, correct?” 

George nodded. 

“Your return means death.” 

“I understand,” the brunette replied. 

“Good,” declared Schlatt. 

The piglin led George away. He managed one more look at Dream before he was dragged out of sight. 

“I love you!” the brunette called, from down the hall. Clay wanted to reply but he couldn’t force his mouth to move. Instead he let a few tears slide down his face, figuring that was a reply in itself, even though George couldn’t see it. _What goes unheard always says the most,_ he figured.


	17. A Meeting

_The guards are a lot nicer once you actually get into the prison,_ thought Tommy dejectedly. It must be because almost everyone is in here for life. _And if I’m innocent, a few of them probably are too._ The boy figured life would not be too bad in this place. 

It was an ok prison. He didn’t think too much about it. 

He did think about his compass, however. One time he caught a glimpse of the same guard who promised to keep it safe. He made eye contact and tried to gauge whether the man was able to keep his promise; but the man’s face remained painfully blank. That could’ve meant anything. He held onto the hope that it was safe somewhere, and the even smaller hope that he could one day be reunited with it. He worried and wondered about his friends, and hoped everyone was doing ok. Wherever it is they were. 

He thought a lot about Dream and the moment he saw him in the red ballroom. It kept him going. _I’ll be rescued,_ he thought. _And if i’m not? Then i’ll make a life here. Then this will be it. I can deal with this. I won’t give up; I’ll fight to make things okay._

_But Sweet Jesus I hope I get rescued._

\---

Dream’s duties as Schlatt’s public relations manager were pretty intense; seeing as everybody seemed to have their own opinion of the man. Most of them managed to agree that he was not a good man, but everybody had a different reason to believe this. It was all very complex and political and boring. Dream wished he was doing any other job. 

And he couldn’t leave. That definitely made things much worse. The sight of nether brick became painfully familiar, and he couldn’t help but miss the grass and green of his forest home. He longed to be reunited with the place and vouched to literally kiss the doorway of his old home the moment it came into his sight. 

He saw Schlatt frequently. His ram horns stopped looking strange at one point, as did his goat-like ears. His voice was old and familiar reminding him of grander (yet unhappier) days. The man-ram still wore suits all the time. And he grinned the same. 

Schlatt apparently had some pretty intense plans for the two of them. He wanted to make his empire even stronger and more sure; a feat which greatly entailed manipulating the people. 

“I want them to love me,” He said to Dream.

“I know. You told me that already.” 

He leaned close. “I don’t think you understand how badly I want it.” 

Dream just tensed and nodded. _Devil. You’re the devil. I’m getting out of here and then I’m never gonna see your sorry face again._

Schlatt tempted Dream- in more ways than just one. Each time Dream had to refuse a promotion that would involve lots of upgrades (and ultimately a better life in the fortress) he felt a pang in his chest that he hated. _A part of the old me. The man who ran a fake underground manhunt ring and thought only of profit. But I’m not him anymore._ He thought reverently of George. _No, I’m not that man anymore._

A part of him wondered if he was just squandering his opportunities. If there really was no getting out of this place. If each gift Schlatt offered him that he firmly turned away from was a gift lost forever. If he was in there for the rest of his life, then he might as well take advantage of things, right? 

In these moments he thought of George, and his resolve was immediately strengthened. _I’m strong. I won’t bite the apple. I’ll turn away from him for you Georgie, and for myself._

Over the course of the first week he was there, he found out where Tommy was being held. In the communal prison, on the third level, under the name George Davidson. Dream had no idea how THAT happened, but he just went along with it. 

During the second week, Dream slipped into the prison lunchroom and saw the boy sitting at a table by himself. 

He silently sat down across from Tommy. The boy looked up and deliberately did not show any emotions or excitement, although his heart sounded like a hammer in his chest and his blood rushed past his ears with a roar. He quickly looked down. 

“Hello,” said the boy without looking up.

“Hello.” 

A pause. 

“I’m so glad to see you, it's ridiculous. I think this is love,” deadpanned Tommy. Dream fought a laugh. 

“Good to see prison hasn’t killed your spirit. Are things okay?”

Tommy sputtered. “I am in prison. What kind of a question-” 

His energy dissolved into silence as a guard walked past. The man eyed Dream cautiously. 

“You don’t look like an inmate,” He said.

“I’m not. I’m President Schlatt’s new relations manager.” 

“Hmm,” he looked unconvinced. “Visitation day isn’t for a few more weeks.” 

Dream turned to him. “Visitation day? Are you serious?” he put a hand on his hip. “I’m gathering important data from the people. This is a part of my job? I’m a relations manager, obviously. I’m _managing relations._ ” He said it so matter of factly. 

The guard looked annoyed. _Oh shit, I overdid it,_ Dream panicked. 

“I don’t care who you are. Get out of here.” His eyes narrowed. 

Dream stood gracefully. “Jonathan is NOT going to be pleased about this.” 

“Who the hell is Jonathan?” the poor guard asked, very thrown off. 

“Jonathan Schlatt? Your president? Oh my lord…” Dream said exasperatedly. 

“You’re- you- wait. You’re on a first name basis with the president?” He blanched. 

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be.” Dream’s brain went into overdrive. _This is insane but it might just work._ He stood there in the MOST steriotypically gay way possible. He had a hand on his waist, he had his hip popped out and weight on one leg, he had his head tilted to the side and shoulders slanted. Tommy, who had never seen Dream do that before, was actually startled for a second. 

_He’s gone mad,_ thought the boy, _He’s actually gone insane. What the hell is he doing?_

The guards eyes widened in fear and realization. “Oh! Oh sir, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were his, uh, have a good day sir.” And with that he walked off. 

Dream sat back down. The look on his face was a mixture of surprise, disbelief, and pride. 

“What,” Tommy began, “Was. That?” 

Dream met his eyes and _sheepish_ was added to the emotions that showed there. 

“Oh. Oh my god…” the boy leaned back in his seat. “Did you-” 

A muffled giggle erupted from the other side of the table.

“No. No way,” said the boy.

“Yes!” Dream cackled as quietly as he could, but it was hard to keep it contained. 

“Did you just convince that poor security guard that you were actually shagging the president of L’Manberg.” 

“I did!” the man cried in disbelief. “I actually did! I am so amazing.” 

“I cannot believe that worked. I will never be able to believe that just happened.” 

“Oh JEEZ,” Dream wheezed. “I cannot wait to tell George about that. He’s gonna be so proud.” 

“Speaking of, where is he?” said the boy. The man’s laughter fell away, but a faint smile remained. 

“Safe. As are Wilbur and Niki.” His tone shifted to business.

“That’s great news. Are you gonna get me out of here?”

“Yes.”

Relief flooded the boy. He couldn’t process it all at once. 

“Yes,” Dream continued. “I need to know: are you in any immediate danger?”

“No, I’m okay.” 

“That’s good. Now, at the moment I don’t really have a plan to get out of here. You’re going to have to bear with me for a little while, okay?” 

“I can do that,” he suddenly remembered a lot of things. “Dream, I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For going into the Nether even though you told me not to. I…” his voice softened, “I was so worried.” 

Dream reached across the table and put his hands on the boy’s wrist. “Listen Tommy. You didn’t do it to be disobedient or to cause problems. You did it out of love, I know. You’re a good kid.” 

He said nothing for a while. Then, “I’m not so sure about that.” 

“Well, you’re not bad, but you certainly have your flaws.”

His head snapped up. “Hey!” 

“Whaaat?” Dream laughed, “I’m not gonna BABY you. Stand up for yourself, kid! Defend yourself.” 

“Now really isn’t the time for a life-lesson, dickhead.” The boy grumbled. 

Dream wheezed. “You’re right. You’re actually right.” He looked around cautiously. “I have to go now, before that guard comes back and realizes I’m not actively doing it with Schaltt.” 

“Wait, actively?”

“Don’t worry about it. Hang in there, my boy. I’ll see you again soon.” He darted away just as a guard started eyeing him a bit too closely. _Out of the pan, into the fire,_ the man thought glumly as he returned to the hallways of nether brick walls and flooring. _Not for long, though. No-o-o, not for long._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream is a master at deceit. convince hundreds of people that his man-hunt arenas are real? done! convince a security guard he's doing it with the president? no problem! he's just that good


	18. We Could Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short one today, sorry folks. But! There will be another one tmmr, as usual

Dream was in the ballroom, the one with the big glass window, and Schlatt was sitting across from him. A week had passed and he had a plan. 

“Schlatt, do you know what I think would really help your public image?”

“I’m all ears…” the man replied. 

“Well,” he crossed his legs. “Treatment of prisoners is a large part of how the people view a government.” 

“Is that so?” The ram replied suspiciously. 

“Yes! Why, of course. They’re the people! People care about how they’re treated!” he insisted. 

“I’m not sure I follow.” 

“The people in those prisons used to be citizens. So free citizens- the people who are not in prison- will relate and empathize with them. You catch my drift?” 

“Hmm. And?” 

“If they see us treating the prisoners nicely then they will like you better- because they can emphasize with the prisoners.” 

“Interesting theory,” the ram smiled. “So, what should we do about that? Better living quarters? Higher quality food?” 

Dream grinned back. “Those things would make their lives better, that’s true. But they would go unseen by the people. We need something that can be talked about and openly viewed.”

The ram waited, an eyebrow raised. 

“Lets have an annual get together for the prisoners, right here in this ballroom. It would be very simple and nice, with meals and lots of guards. No alcohol. Nothing glass or metal. And if they don’t behave? They don’t get to participate.” 

“I don’t know… sounds a little…” The ram looked disappointed. 

“Schlatt, don’t you trust me? Did you forget who I am, who I used to be?” He stood for emphasis. 

“I trust you, but this is ridiculous.” 

“It’s not, I assure you. It’s perfect. Guards will see it and talk about it to their families, who will talk about it to their friends, who will talk about it to _their_ friends. Soon everyone will have reason to believe that you’re not such a bad guy! After all, would a cruel dictator treat his prisoners that nicely? No!” 

“I don’t appreciate you calling me a cruel dictator.” A hint of aggression seeped into his tone. 

Dream backed down a little. “No, you misunderstand. I wasn’t calling you anything I was just stating something the people called you.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“So, are we agreed? We will have a small party here in a few days. Very simple. Very public. Very easy to talk about.” He outstretched his hand.

Schlatt considered it for a moment, then stood and took it. They shook. “Deal,” he said. “This better work or I’ll be humiliated.” 

“It will work. I’m certain.” The ram left to attend to some duties. 

_Step one: get Tommy into the ballroom. Completed,_ He thought to himself. He turned to the large window-wall. _I wonder how thick that glass is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn I hope whatever Dream's doing works...


	19. Crumbles

Two days passed, and the prisoners were shuffled into the ballroom. Tommy was among them. 

It was a simple gathering. Tables were set up with paper plates and plastic forks (although there was no real need for that, most of the prisoners in Schlatt’s fortress were political prisons and weren’t actually dangerous), there was music playing, and the place was decorated. With each passing moment Dream’s plan felt more and more insane. 

Underneath the carpet between the floor and window were sticks of dynamite pressed tightly to the corner. They could not be seen unless you walked right up to it and looked for it, but it still made him unendingly nervous. He has stolen them from the armory and hastily hid them in the ballroom within the span of 20 minutes, so there easily could be some serious flaw he overlooked. Also he did not know whether or not the dynamite would be strong enough to break the glass. Or if the detonator would work. _There are a lot of if’s,_ he thought with a nervous sweat. Schlatt was there too, at Dream’s side. 

The blond man turned to the prisoners and used his ringleader voice; a voice with which he had not spoken for many, many years. “Ladies and Gentleman, please take a seat,” He said with a welcoming smile. The ram smirked, recognizing the tone. 

Prisoners moved complacently into their seats. He was surprised at the ease with which everybody complied. _Are truly none of these people evil or dangerous?_ Even knowing Schlatt and his reckless and mean nature, Dream was a little unnerved to think this. Surely in a prison, at least a few people actually belonged there, right? He eyed the ram warily. _Are you worse than I thought you were?_

He made eye contact with Tommy and made a note of where he sat. The boy looked very alert. _Smart kid. Knows something’s up,_ the man thought fondly. 

“Welcome to the first ever Annual Fortress Feast,” said Dream after everyone had gotten situated. “There will be a meal and music. If everyone behaves, there could possibly be dancing. So be good! Feel free to talk amongst yourselves and have a good time. Food will be brought in a minute.” He turned to Schlatt, who looked unsatisfied. 

“All courtesy of President Schlatt,” Dream added, hastily. The ram nodded, then gave the prisoners a wave. At that moment he almost looked friendly. 

If he could hear the slew of mental insults going through the prisoners heads at that very moment Dream would have been fired instantly (and probably killed). But alas, he could not, and the blond man’s neck was saved. He took a deep sigh of relief as trays of food carried by Piglin workers were brought in from side rooms. _Okay, okay, now I just have to focus. I need to wait for the right moment to detonate the explosion- at the peak of activity and confusion in the evening. Then I grab Tommy and get the hell out of here!_

The blond man certainly thought there would be a lot more activity and confusion. He hadn’t planned on everybody being so well-behaved. The meal went by without so much as a single interruption. Schlatt was looking happy! That’s the ultimate sign that everything is going wrong. He had to do something. 

Dream slipped the band some gold coins and told them to pick up the pace. _I’m putting all my eggs in this basket. If this doesn’t work I’m screwed._ He hopped up on a table and spread his arms wide. “Let the dancing begin!” he shouted. People lept up from their seats, pulling their friends along with them, and crowded in the middle of the dance floor. Schlatt looked appalled. They spun each other in circles like a bunch of kids at a birthday party, laughing and whooping. To be fair- most of them were in there for life, and this was probably the most fun they had in awhile. The man felt sorry that he had to end it. 

He pulled a redstone module out of his pocket. It glowed and hummed with mechanical pieces. In his haste and worry, he hadn’t been careful enough to hide it from Schlatt, who saw the object over the man’s shoulder and immediately recognized it. 

“No!” he shouted, and his hands dived to the module. But it was too late. Dream twisted to unlock it and then pushed a button to activate it. A deafening _BOOM_ was heard. The people dancing on the ballroom floor yelped with surprise and the band stopped playing abruptly. When he didn’t hear a shattering noise, the man turned towards the glass window in fear. It had long, spider web-like cracks that started at the bottom and crept up about halfway, then stopped. He gawked at the sight. _It didn’t work. There wasn’t enough detonation to break the mirror. I’m screwed._

He turned to Schlatt who looked at him with a heavy expression. His face looked so old in that moment, and so tired. Disappointed but not surprised. 

The blond man had never seen that look on his face before. He’d seen rage, and evvy, and even at one point lust, but never this. Always his face had been alight with some sort of clever plan or less-than-straightforward intentions. Now he just looked done. 

Somehow that expression sparked more fear into Dream than anger or rage ever could have. He mentally prepared himself for the gallows. Until he remembered the boy. 

_TOMMY! Oh no, oh no no no! We HAVE to get out! I _can’t_ lose here._

He whipped around and maneuvered past panicked guests while Schlatt tried to grab the back of his shirt collar. He narrowly avoided the ram’s hands and ducked under a security guard, then spotting Tommy again from across the floor. 

“Kid!” Dream shouted, and the boy ran to him. He caught the boy in his arms and they both turned to the window-wall, still intact. Glowing orange light glinted through the cracks prettily; but the glass was still in one piece. 

Dream had no idea what to do. He turned to try to run to the door but it was already blocked by security guards. All of the entrances had Schlatt’s men standing in front of them. “The side rooms!” yelled the boy, and the two of them bolted to the nearest door. Unfortunately, before they were even halfway there, Piglins slammed the doors shut- locking themselves in. They clearly did not want any part of the chaos. 

“Clay, what now. Please tell me you had another plan. What do we do?” the boy asked desperately. Clay said nothing, he could say nothing, just looked down at a pair of hopeful eyes with nothing but sorrow in his heart.

“I’m sorry kid,” was all he said. Schlatt approached them, and Tommy tucked himself under Dream’s arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH NO... dream you've donked it up this time... oh heck... oh jeez-


	20. Tubbo?

Schlatt opened his mouth to say something, but it was cut off by a sharp _woosh_ noise and then the sound of something breaking. They all turned to the window wall and saw an arrow perfectly wedged into one of the spider web-like cracks. The moment drew itself out. 

Before anybody could speak, the wall shattered. 

It came down all at once like a sheet of rain. The noise was deafening- a crash-BOOM that reminded Tommy of the rough ocean waves, but much MUCH louder. The glass split into a million different tiny shards that glittered and glinted, then fell onto the ballroom floor like a sudden snow. Schlatt and Dream instinctively ducked and covered their ears when it happened. And Dream smartly stayed in that position when a fleet of arrows came whizzing through the open door. 

The people in the ballroom rushed to take cover behind overturned tables and chairs. Guards escorted Schlatt out of the room, presumably to take him somewhere safer, but he was kicking and yelling for them to let him down. They did not listen and carried him away. A fleet of soldier-like guards entered the room and started shooting return arrows (they had crossbows, notably more powerful) through the open window. A war had broken out in the ballroom. 

“DOWN WITH SCHLATT! DOWN WITH THE TYRANT!” came a chant from outside the window. The people who said it were out of sight but it sounded like there were a lot of them given the volume and number of the voices. More of them than there were soldiers. _Not just a war, a revolution,_ Dream thought.

Many of the soldiers when hearing the chant started aiming their arrows at the floor and ceiling- pretending to misfire. From an outside perspective it could have looked like they were actually missing on purpose, but Dream knew better. He knew that these soldiers were the best of the best (who else would be hired to guard Schlatt) and that they were doing it on purpose. Plus, Dream was a master at fake battles, having organized them for years. He recognized the tactics all too well. The chanting outside was cut apart by a lone voice: a cry of “For Liberty!” Tommy perked up when he heard the noise. 

“What is it?” Dream asked, still ducked behind the table. 

“I thought I recognized that voice. It sounds like Tubbo,” the boy responded. 

“What? Who’s Tubbo?” 

As if on cue, a man leapt through the open window. It was Tubbo! Dark hair and rosy cheeks moved in a blur as he dodged and dived some arrows. He looked so majestic. People poured in behind the boy- first a dozen, then 20, then 25, 30, 40, 50, 100. Tubbo had brought an army by the looks of it, and there were sure to be more people waiting outside only because they could not all fit in the ballroom. Chants and battle cries were shouted by the rebels. They drowned out the noise of the soldiers calling for backup: “DOWN WITH SCHLATT! DOWN WITH THE TYRANT! DOWN WITH SCHLATT! DOWN WITH THE TYRANT!” The words rattled Tommy to his very core. They were caught in the crossfire of a revolution. Men dropped on both sides and the boy watched an arrow firmly lodge itself into Tubbo’s shoulder. He did not flinch or stop, however, just kept shooting arrows and shouting orders to the people around him. He looked incredible in that moment- bow drawn back, arrow in his shoulder, firmly yet calmly speaking to the people at his sides, a look in his eyes unparalleled by even the most fearsome predatory creature- it was the picture of a new age for L’Manberg. Tommy saw it as such and shuddered at the sight. 

“ENEMIES OF SCHLATT,” Screamed Tubbo. “YOU ARE TO LEAVE NOW OR JOIN US. ANYONE STILL IN THE FORTRESS IS A FAIR KILL.” 

The prisoners moved out from behind their protective tables and chairs and ran past Tubbo’s army. They were helped by some of the revolutionaires to get down to the floor, and the soldiers did not shoot at them when this was happening. Both sides momentarily abided by the unspoken rules of war and let the innocents escape from the bloodshed. Now was Dream and Tommy’s chance to escape. 

Dream led the boy by his arm to the exposed window. His hair was standing up on end for the few seconds it took him to cross the ballroom. _At any moment these people could break out into fighting again and we’re standing right in No Man’s Land. We’ll be obliterated._ But no such thing happened. They transitioned into the netherrack fields without so much as a scratch. They were free! Dream couldn’t believe it- his heart was pounding and his head felt like it was full of cotton. He wanted to run with the boy again, run as fast as he could, as far as his legs would carry him. But he suddenly stopped. Tommy stopped too. They shared a look. _We do not know where we are._ All around them Tubbo’s soldiers stood, ready to move forward into the fortress as soon as they were able. They watched the prisoners run past them. Dream turned to a girl in leather arm0r and wielding an enchanted bow, who was standing beside him. She eyed him warily. 

“Down with Schlatt!” He said, and she seemed convinced. “Please, do you know where we are? We need to get out of here,” he implored.

“You’re in L’Manberg, at Schlatt’s tower.” 

“Yes I know. But- how do we get out of here?” Dream looked around him hastily and there was only netherrack as far as he could see. “We need to get to Dry Waters,” he insisted. 

“Go east!” She said. 

“Which way is east!?!” Dream said, exasperated. 

The woman looked at him incredulously. She pointed in a direction. Go that way for a day and you’ll hit a town. From there someone can take you to Dry Waters. 

“Thank you. Thank you!” Dream said. “C’mon Tommy, let’s go-”

His words were cut off by a tug at his wrist. “Wait,” said Tommy. A million things were rushing through his brain. _Tubbo and his friends. Did I see Drista back there? I think I did. I can’t tell it was all too quick. My compass. My compass is gone. My pa-_

“Kid!” the blond interrupted his thoughts. “We don’t have time for this. We have to run.”

“We have to stay and fight!” proclaimed Tommy. _My compass,_ he thought. _This is my chance to get it back._

“What? Are you crazy? You want to fight in a revolution?” the man asked. 

“Yes.” 

“We can’t! We aren’t soldiers. We don’t even have any armor or weapons or training.” 

“But my friends are back there! Tubbo and Drista… and my compass.”

“They will be okay! They have been preparing for this for what looks like a while,” said the man as he gestured to the field of soldiers. “As for your compass, Tommy I-” 

An explosion rang out from the fortress and chunks of Netherbrick flew out over the crowd of rebels. They raised their shields and the woman from earlier pulled Tommy and Dream under hers. It protected the three of them from the falling debris. That seemed to convince Tommy that he and Dream would be no use to Tubbo like this. Even if they were given weapons and armor (surely the rebels had extra somewhere), Dream had not fought in anything for many years and the boy had NEVER fought in anything. They would be no help. 

“Okay. We can go,” said the boy as the barrage of debris ended. The blond man wasted no time in grabbing him by the hand and running. Tommy shouted a ‘thank you’ to the woman who helped them over his shoulder, hoping that she heard. Then he focused his energy on moving. 

Dream and Tommy ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> technoblade woulda known which way is east lol


	21. Walking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright I did something a little different with the dialogue at the end of the chapter. I think it turned out ok but let me know how you feel about it in the comments

Dream and Tommy walked for hours in the general direction of where that lady pointed them to. At many moments Dream became afraid that he was going the wrong way- but he had no way of knowing. He decided against telling the boy this, so as not to worry them. They marched on together. 

“Dream,” the boy began, as he gazed over the fields of rolling red. “I have to tell you some things. I want to speak to you.”

“What is it, Tommy?” The man responded. He looked Tommy in the eye and curiosity bloomed when he saw the expression. It was different from the listless wonder he had known to see in the boy, or the simple happiness, or the quiet peace. It was different even from an expression of pain or fear. It was…

Silence. 

“Tommy, you can tell me anything. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you,” Dream put an arm around the boy’s shoulder, but it was shrugged off. 

The man waited patiently for the boy to begin. 

“My story,” he said solemnly. “Is unlike any story I’ve ever heard or known. So much has happened. I want to tell you what I know and remember, so that I can keep myself even after I’m gone.”

“What do you mean, keep yourself?” 

“Keep my memories. Keep myself. My sordid, scary, beautiful, tragic, joyful, sad, memories,” he said. He didn’t make much eye contact. Dream respected that and looked away. 

“Tell me your story, my friend,” the man replied. “I will listen. I’ll listen.” 

He took a deep breath. “I lost my family in a shipwreck. Everything before that moment I’ve forced myself to forget.” 

“You will have to remember eventually. It’s not healthy to keep it all stuffed down.” 

“I can’t remember it. I’ve tried to, but it’s gone. All I know is that my family is gone. I remember my mother’s eyes, and I remember my old home. And I remember my father’s laugh. All else is gone…”

Worry washed over Dream. “You’ve tried to remember? But I thought you said you’ve forced yourself to forget? You’re not making any sense.” 

“Please, Dream. Just listen. You promised you would,” the boy pleaded. Dream obliged by not saying anything. 

He continued:

“I lost my family in a shipwreck. The boat went down quickly. A man saved me, his name was Technoblade. I remember pink hair and my mother’s smile. And then the ocean.” His breath came out shaky. “The ocean. Endless, brutal, salty water. A blazing sun. Freezing nights. Little food or water. But I’ll tell you this, Clay. I’ll tell you the worst part. The worst part was that I _knew_ what was gonna happen to me. I knew that I was gonna run out of food and then starve to death alone on that little boat.” Tears pricked at his eyes. “And I-” the words broke off. He took a moment. 

“Tell me. What is it?” 

The boy choked out the next part: “And I didn’t care. I wanted to be with my family. I wanted to be gone, too.” He cried. 

Dream stopped walking so he could hold the boy in his arms. Tommy let him. 

“The same day I ran out of food I found myself on the shore of Oregon. I ate seaweed from the beach. I saw a plume of smoke in the forest. I ran into a man.” He sobbed. “I met a liar and a man. You’re the liar. He’s the man. And you’re both my family,” he sank into Dream’s shoulder. “You took care of me. You nursed me back to health. You won’t tell me anything. I’m so lost and alone. I’m lost…” 

Guilt surged through Dream like a tide. “I didn’t tell you anything for your own safety!” he defended. 

“That’s not true!” said Tommy. “That’s not true and you know it! And then you left me. You left me when Wilbur got kidnapped and I was alone again!” 

“My boy, please,” Dream wrapped his arms tighter around the boy. “Please! You’re being unreasonable.” 

“I- I- I can’t!” 

“What can’t you? Tell me.” 

“But I’m still alone. And I’m sick,” he blabbered, clearly not having heard Dream. The man was so concerned. 

“Boy,” Clay’s tone tried to be firm. “Bring yourself back together.” 

Tommy continued to sob. Dream just held him somewhat helplessly. After a while his tears began to slow. His breaths and hiccups became quieter and fewer. 

“Okay, okay. It’s okay, I’m okay.” The boy started to reassure himself. “I’m okay. I’m gonna tell you the rest,” he whispered. 

“You were sick and alone. I lied to you and left you,” said Dream. 

“Yes. And then I went into the Nether to look for you. I met a lot of people. I met Tubbo, the man who led the revolution back there.”

“Oh. So that’s Tubbo?” 

“Yes. He was nice to me. He’s my friend. Then I got taken away by a police officer. He said I was under arrest for tax evasion?”

Dream pulled back to look the boy in the eyes. His face was puffy and his eyes were red and swollen. 

“What? Tax evasion?”

“Yeah. I used one of George’s old ID cards to get into the Nether. Since I don’t have one of my own.” 

“Oh!”

“Yeah. And then they caught me.” Seeing as he had calmed down quite a bit, the pair continued walking. Clay kept hold of one of Tommy’s sleeves, though, as if he was gonna fly away if he wasn’t held down. The boy noted it with mild amusement and affection. “I was in the prison. They took my clothes- or rather, George’s clothes. They took my stuff too. And my compass.” 

“Your compass?” 

“The one that was in the lifeboat with me. It came with the other survival gear.”

“Well, I’ll buy you a new compass.”

“You don’t understand. It was all I had to remember my parents by. Without that it could be like they never existed at all. They’ll fade away.” 

“You are the ultimate proof of your parents existence. As lost as you’re alive they’ll never truly be gone.”

“I know you’re trying to be comforting, but I miss my compass. Nothing you say or do will change that.” 

“I’m gonna excuse the rudeness because you’re clearly traumatized.” 

Tommy snort-laughed. It sounded bitter. 

“Tommy, your past is full of horrors. This is true, right?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay. And so what?” 

“What do you mean, ‘so what?’ It matters that my past is full of horrors!”

“Okay, it matters. And what?” 

Tommy started to get angry. “What do you _mean._ ” 

“I mean, it’s okay! It’s okay that things were so bad. It’s okay that-”

“Were you about to say that it’s okay my parents died? Because I’ll actually hit you. I will.”

“I’m saying that the horrors and agonies of the past are okay. You have to accept them. You have to come to terms with what happened to you. You have to make peace with your past. Don’t let it control your future. Don’t let it haunt you. Make peace with it. _It’s okay._ ” 

Tommy took a long moment. “You sound like Technoblade. He told me it was okay right before he died. He told me to fight.” 

“I like this Technoblade guy. I like him for his words, and I love him for saving you.”

“You both seem to think that it will be okay,” Tommy said. “I’m not so sure…” 

“You have time to think about it. You're not alone.” 

The boy got mad again. “Liar.” 

Dream sighed. “Tell me something again. I want to hear the truth out of you. Tell me more.” 

“I hate you. I hate everything.” 

“Mmm-hmm.” 

“I love you for saving me. I hate you for it, too. I wish I could’ve gone down with that ship.”

“Alright.” 

“I wish I was dead. I miss my family.” 

“I’m your family now. You have a new family. You have to stay alive for them.” 

“...” 

“George would die of sorrow if you left us. The house would go dark. Our little church-house would be cold. We need you.” 

There was a long moment of silence. 

Tommy: “You would miss me?”

Dream: “We would miss you like hell. I don’t know how I would go on.” 

Tommy: “Now you’re just saying whatever.” 

Dream: “It’s not true! I love you. You’re my boy.” 

Tommy: “I’m so sad. I think I’m having a breakdown.”

Dream: “I think so too. It’s okay, we all have breakdowns sometimes. Why don't you tell me more? Tell me more truths.” 

Tommy said nothing, but he silently took Dream’s hand. 

Dream: Did you know that the nether can be very beautiful? There are some forests here. Lots of strange and beautiful creatures. We’ll see many of them when we get to Dry Waters. 

T: Is that where we’re going? Is George, Wilbur, and Niki gonna be there?

D: Just George. Wilbur and Niki are in the Badlands. 

T: I miss George. 

D: Me too. 

T: Dream? 

D: Yeah? 

T: Thanks for letting me yell at you and hold your hand. You are a mediocre therapist. 

D: *Laughter* I know. I’m trying, though. 

T: I know too. You know I don’t hate you, right?

D: Yeah. And you know I didn’t mean to take away from your parents deaths? I didn’t mean to say that they didn’t matter. 

T: What did you mean to say? I think I know but I want to hear it again. 

D: I meant to say that it will be okay. 

T: Hmm. One more time, please. 

D: It will be okay. 

T: Again! 

D: It will be okay!

T: Thanks. You sound like Technoblade. 

D: You're welcome, kid. And that’s an honor.


	22. A Little Better

They got to a town. Dream spent some gold (the currency of the nether) to buy the two of them a meal. It was a sort of noodle-soup, with unfamiliar but delicious vegetables and hoglin meat. They sat in the restaurant and ate hungrily. Tommy reveled in the taste. It reminded him of that sandwich George made him that first day at the church-house: a meal of hope and new life that made his soul swell with warmth. The sound of pots and pans clinking and food sizzling came from the kitchen to Tommy’s right. It made him feel less alone.

The restaurant bustled with life and commotion. A lot of people were talking about the attack on Schlatt’s tower. Apparently word spread very quickly around the Nether, although the boy didn’t see how it could’ve gotten there before they did. The town must have known it was going to happen before it actually did. 

“It’s Tubbo’s rebellion,” said a woman at the table behind them.

“That street-rat kid?” said a man. 

“He’s not just some street-rat kid. After all, you knew his name,” replied the woman.

“He’s not fit to lead L’Manberg.” 

“Anyone’s better than Schlatt.”

“Keep your voice down! You’re gonna get us in trouble,” he hissed. 

“With who? There’s no guards around! Everyone got called to the fortress for backup.” It was true, Tommy looked around and saw a surprising lack of people in uniform. 

“Still. Tubbo could lose,” said the man. 

“Eh, my money’s on the kid. Everyone else is behind him as well. And I know for almost a FACT that Schlatt wasn’t expecting this.” 

Dream leaned across the table and said something to Tommy in a low voice: “They’re talking about it like it's 1000 miles away. The fighting is practically in their backyard!”

“I know,” responded the boy. “It makes me think. How often does something like this happen. Do you know?”

Dream shrugged. “Schlatt’s been the ruler of L’Manberg for as long as I can remember.”

“It’s odd. Maybe they’re in shock or something.” 

“We can hear you!” said the man. Dream cringed and it made Tommy laugh. 

“Sorry!” said Dream, while the boy chuckled quietly.

“We aren’t in shock,” said the woman. “It’s just that this fight has been a long time coming. And almost EVERYONE is on the rebellion’s side.” 

The man agreed. “The only shock is that it’s Tubbo’s people who got to Schlatt first. Tons of different groups have been trying for months without success to find the fortress and find a way in.” He took a bite of his food. “I wonder what finally gave them an opportunity.” 

Dream and Tommy shared a look. 

“Yeah…” said the boy. “A mystery.” They went back to eating. 

Dream used the last of his money to pay for a hoglin ride to Dry Waters. The driver was nice and amicable, and seemed glad to be doing business with somebody. This time Tommy rode in a cart attached to the animal, instead of on the actual animal itself. Dream was sat beside him. 

“Ever rode on one of them before?” Tommy asked, gesturing to the animal in front of him.

“On one? No I haven’t,” replied Dream.

“As a matter of fact, I have. Guess I’m just more experienced than you,” he teased. “And better in general.” 

“Oh keep that up. See what happens,” Dream grumbled. 

Tommy snickered. Then he spoke: “Hey, um, Dream?” 

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t mention the hand-holding thing.” 

“Oh what, worried George is gonna think you’re not manly enough? George is a gay man, Tommy. We’re gay men.” 

“I _know_ that!! It’s a matter of personal pride.” He defended. “Just please forget about it!”

The man conceded. “Pfft. Alright. Consider it forgotten.”

“Thank you. You’re a good person, Dream,” said Tommy.

“I’m trying to be. I’m trying now, anyways.” 

“That’s what makes you good. The fact that you’re trying and you care.” 

“Thanks, kid.”

“No problem, old man.” 

They rode the rest of the way in comfortable company.


	23. Dry Waters

Dry Waters truly was a beautiful place. It was covered in a sprawling blue forest, with tall trees that shot up into the sky and covered the red sky with their cerulean and green leaves. Their trucks were dark red with vines that twisted into and through them. Not just the vines were twisted, _everything_ in the area was twisted. The trunks of the trees spiraled upwards. The leaves curled inward and outward like the motion of a bird’s wings. The vegetation and plants all twisted and turned to their 0wn liking. There was little that stood straight up in the place, other than Tommy and Dream, the boy noted. But it was beautiful. It was natural. This was just how the forest was, and this was how it looked when it was healthy and thriving, Dream told him. He hardly could believe it. 

“Everything looks shriveled. Like it’s on the brink of death or something,” he said as he stared in awe at red flowery plants that seemed to be stealing nutrients from the base of a tree. 

“It’s not dying. It’s just warped- it’s different. A warped forest,” the man explained. “It’s just how life looks here.”

“You’ve been in one of these forests before?” Asked Tommy, silently praying for a straightforward answer. 

“Yeah, I have. Many times. We have a lot of friends in Dry Waters- me and George do. That’s why I told him to go here.”

“And where are we going?” Asked Tommy, as he watched his footing on an uneven wood path. It was a pretty cyan colored wood that must have come from the very place he was navigating through. It was old and overgrown, with colored vines intertwining the plants and holding them together. 

“To Fundy’s Palace. That’s where I told George to meet me. Hey, look at this fungus. Don’t you think it’s cool?” he pointed to an iridescent and fuzzy patch of mushrooms in a patch on the floor. It seemed to glow and move with life. 

“It is. It’s all so amazing. How do things survive here? With no sunlight or water in the ground?” 

“Not like things back on Earth do, that’s for sure. That’s really all I know. We’ll have to ask Georgie when we see him again. He’ll know, probably be an expert on it from all those books he reads. What a guy, I tell you.” They ducked under a low hanging branch. “Watch your step!” Dream called behind him. 

Tommy did as he was asked, careful not to fall through the semi-rotted wood below him. It passed and they were on stable ground again. A thick fog, a deep royal blue color, could be seen in the distance. 

“We’re almost there,” said Dream. “Fundy’s tower is just past that fog.”

“Oh, so the fog acts like a protection.” 

“Yeah. It conceals the place, just a little bit. But it’s not- oh, well you’ll see. You’ll see in a second.” 

“Hey, Dream?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you love George?”

He thought about it for a second. “The same reason the trees are twisted and need no sunlight, I guess. It’s just that way.” 

“But those things have a reason, I just don’t know what it is,” the boy responded. 

“I don’t know the reason either. But I’d be a fool to deny it.” 

The boy thought about it. “How will I know when I’m in love, Dream?” 

“You’ll know. As surely as you can know this forest, with it’s waterless and curling flowers, you’ll know.” Came the reply. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about that for a while. Or ever, really. It’ll come to you on it’s own. Ah, we’re almost here.” 

They entered the blue fog. “Stay close to me, kid,” said Dream. “Otherwise we’re gonna have to be playing marco-polo out here.” 

He laughed. Tommy did not. They moved forward. 

As suddenly as they were thrown into it, the fog spat them back out. The place looked just like the rest of the forest, but with a high blue wall of fog in the distance surrounding it, and fewer trees. And of course the largest and most obvious difference- the shining and huge structure in the middle of it all. It has spires and spirals that twisted to match the trees, and was crafted out of a bright white stone. Many different rooms and windows could be seen from where the boy was standing. There were piglins and people intermingled together, each minding their own business while simultaneously looking like they were all together. It was different from the way that Tommy had seen the two species interact before. There seemed to be more peace in the dynamic here. Like it was natural. It was a sight the boy had never seen before, but it was natural. _Like Dream and George,_ he thought. _I’ve never encountered two vastly different people connected like that. But they are connected. It’s as clear as the forest. As clear as the piglins and the people. It’s strange, and it’s natural._

“Dream!” shouted an excited and happy voice. There was a blur of brown hair and a smile, before George jump-tackled the blond man. They fell to the floor in a tangled heap. “You got out!” he laughed with joy and surprise. “You made it! And you brought Tommy!” 

Dream smiled and laughed in response. “I got out! What, did you doubt me?” He peppered kisses to the other man’s face. Tommy looked away shyly. 

“Never! How could I doubt you, Dream! Okay, that’s a lie, I doubted you a little…” he said, pulling back to look the other man in the eye. “I was so worried. Did you have a plan when you told me to meet you here?”

“No,” he said as the two of them got to their feet. “I really didn’t. I had to come up with one kinda on the fly. And we almost didn’t make it. There was a revolution! At Schlatt’s tower.” 

George looked concerned and surprised. “A revolution?”

“Yeah! And in the chaos and fighting we got out! Can you believe it? I can’t,” he said, as George moved over to give Tommy a hug too. 

“Oh, I’m so glad to see you safe. What are you doing in the nether?” The brunette man asked Tommy. “I thought we told you to stay home! And how did you find us?”

“I… It’s a long story,” he replied as he was crushed in a hug. Dream joined in too. 

“Hey! Back off,” George said playfully. “This one’s for Tommy!” 

“Ach- you’re crushing me!!!” said the boy, but he was smiling too. 

“Okay, okay,” said Dream. “C’mon, let’s go greet Fundy. And George?” 

George looked up at him. “Yeah?” 

“We’re gonna tell him everything.” 

Tommy perked up. “Wait, really? Everything?” 

“Yeah,” he said. He put a hand on one of Tommy’s shoulders, George put a hand in his hair. “You deserve to know, kiddo. You’re family now.” 

Tommy beamed brightly.

“You made the right choice,” said George to the other man. “I think he deserves to know as well. No more secrets. No more mysteries.”

“You’re right.” Dream said. “No more secrets.”


	24. King Fundy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody, how y'all doing. I'm currently sitting in a history zoom call as I type this. It's not too boring or anything (because I really like history) it's just a slow moment of the class. The teacher is talking about the roaring 20's which is like, my favorite time in American history. That time period was so s p i c y. Not great, per say, but very spicy lol. 
> 
> I'm gonna start trying to share stuff about my life in the notes of the coming chapters, cuz I realized you guys don't know who I am!! I mean, you kinda know me just by reading the story, but still! 
> 
> Hope you all have a lovely day :) <3

The three of them set off towards the palace. When they got to the entrance the guards saw George and let them in. The main hall was quite beautiful, with a high ceiling and pearly pillars that held the whole structure up. They were led down a hall until they got to a large room. At the end of the room were two thrones, made of gold and quartz, and many precious and colorful jewels. It was ornately decorated. At the crown of each chair was an emblem, of water being poured onto the base of a tree. The water seemed to disappear in a cloud of steam, as it does in the nether. It was the Dry Waters emblem. _OHHHH that’s why it’s called Dry Waters, cuz like, the water, and it dries, oh I’m stupid-_ Tommy thought, berating himself for not getting it earlier. _Well to be fair I was a little distracted earlier. What with being in prison. And whatnot._

There was no one actually sitting at either one of the thrones. A fox-man approached them. The boy waved politely. 

“Tommy, this is Fundy. Our long-time friend and King of Dry Waters,” said Dream. 

_Oh,_ thought the boy, as he eyed the fox-like creature. _This is him? I wouldn't have guessed. He’s not wearing anything fancy or anything. And why aren’t there any guards around him?_ He let it slide. “Hello,” he said instead. 

The fox laughed. “You wonder why I look like this? You’re underwhelmed? Don’t worry, that’s usually people’s first thoughts when they meet me.”

Tommy stood there shocked. _How did he know what I was thinking?_

The fox-man responded: “A little trick I picked up from the Endermen. It takes years and years of practice, before you can understand someone’s thoughts with just a little eye contact. But spend your whole life in Dry Waters and you’ll learn it easily.”

“Fundy, stop reading our son’s mind,” said Dream. 

Fundy snickered. “Your son? He doesn’t look much like you. And he knows little. And speaks unlike you.” 

“He’s adopted. Unofficially,” said George. “We’re taking care of him.” 

“Oi! And you’re doing pretty crap at it! Just spent the last two weeks in prison, oh high and mighty caretakers,” The boy joked with a punch to Dream’s side. The man laughed and caught the hand, twisting the boy into a headlock. 

“It doesn’t help that you’re such a troublemaker,” said the man as he ruffled the boy’s hair. Tommy mumbled protests.

“How cute…” said Fundy dryly. The two of them remembered where they were and stopped play-fighting. George looked embarrassed. 

“Right, uh, sorry about that, your highness,” said the brunette abashedly. “We’re having a bit of a reunion. You don’t mind if Dream and Tommy stay here as well, just for a little while?” 

“Of course not. My palace is grand. We have many rooms and much room for you and your people.”

“Thank you,” said the brunette. 

“I’m sure you’re very tired. I have a few matters to attend to, as King. Boring stuff. A war and whatever,” said the fox. “I’ll have a worker take you to your rooms, and show you the dining hall and the recreation area, stay as long as you need- but not more.” The last note had a hint of aggression to it. “You are my friends, that’s true, but I know that you are all involved in some illegal activities or another. I can sense it. If someone comes knocking at my doors asking for you, and I have to turn you in to them in order to keep the peace, I will do so. I will not jeopardize the safety of my nation for your protection, do you understand?” 

The three of them nodded. “Nobody is going to come looking for us here, Fundy- err, my King. We’re hidden well. Nobody will suspect.” 

The fox-man lifted and waved his tail distractedly, and narrowed his eyes at Dream. “Then stay for as long as you are confident in that fact.” His voice was final and powerful. It was so different to Tubbo’s voice, in tone, words, and overall demeanor- but it had the same effect. It was firm and final. It was the voice of a leader. Tommy noted this with a little apprehension. 

“We’re confident in it. We’re very confident,” reassured George. Fundy looked a little convinced. 

“A Piglin,” he called, and a piglin came to his side. “Please take these young men to their rooms. And show them around a little, if you don’t mind.”

The Piglin snorted in response and gestured for the three men to follow them. 

The tour was not very long but it was certainly impressive. The palace was grand and wonderful. It had many rooms and tall windows, some of which were stained-glass (and so reminded the three of them of their little church house). They passed one of a woman and Dream mumbled ‘Saint Mary’ under his breath. 

George corrected him: “It’s the queen. The one who is no longer here.” 

“Nik-” Dream began, but George shushed him. 

“The name is not to be uttered in the palace walls,” said George. 

“Oh,” said Dream, and they moved on. 

They got to their rooms and there were three of them. Each were as large as the church house and had all the commodities- a chair with tables, a bed, a bathroom with a bath as large as a pool, a window that looked out over the forest or the town. They opened the door to the first one. Dream told Tommy this one could be his, and the boy laughed and ran over to the bed, leaping onto it and lying face-down. He reveled in the comfort and softness of it even though it was unfamiliar. _This is like a hotel,_ he thought to himself, face in a pillow. _It’s wonderful._

He looked up to see Dream and George staring at him from the doorway. 

“Before you go to sleep,” began Dream, “And you should, because I know you're tired. But before that do you wanna hear the story? About me and George and why we were in hiding? And Schlatt?” He looked tentative.

Tommy didn’t hesitate: “Yes.” 

The three of them sat down at the table in the room. George looked nervously out the window. 

_I hope the boy forgives Dream,_ the brunette thought to himself. _I hope this doesn’t destroy everything._ Dream was thinking something similar. 

Dream opened his mouth. He told the story. Left out no detail, no matter how horrible of a light it painted him in. He told the boy everything. George spoke at many moments as well, adding on details that he knew of. But it was mostly just Dream. 

Clay felt like it was a confession. By the end of it he was crying. 

“And that’s how we ended up in Oregon,” said the man. “And some time later, we found you. Ran into you in the forest.” 

Tommy sat looking at his hands, absorbing all of it. _Holy shit,_ he thought to himself. “So… he began. You never actually killed anybody, right?” 

“Nobody died. It was all an act,” Dream confirmed. 

“And that’s why Schlatt took Wilbur? To lure you into the portal?” 

“Yes,” said George. “Although, we didn’t know it at the time.”

“And Wilbur and Niki are now in a place called the Badlands, which isn’t in the Nether, although it used to be?” The boy asked.

“Yes,” Dream said. 

“And…” Tommy took a deep breath. “You don’t do that kind of thing anymore, right?” he looked up at the man with hopeful eyes. “You don’t cheat and lie anymore?” 

Dream met his gaze. There were tears in his eyes. “I try not to. I try to be good.” 

“You try to be good?” 

“I try to be good.” 

Tommy stood up, abruptly. _Oh God,_ thought Dream. _This is it. He’s never gonna look at me the same._

Tommy walked around the table and pulled Clay into a hug. The man was surprised for a moment, then he hugged back, all the while sniffling gently. _I forgive you,_ said the embrace. _And I know you’d forgive me too._

The boy slept peacefully and deeply that night. He dreamed of his mother, but it wasn’t painful. It was comforting. It was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dang I wonder who the queen is?? :3


	25. A Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone!! god my English teacher is insufferable. he's so mean to this one kid for NO good reason istg-  
> Also coffee is so good. im told that, like, coffee and tea are Dark Academia and Writer Academia aesthetic drinks. I mean I drink those things all the time but now whenever I do I feel so aesthetic so that's nice. I genuinely love the writer academia aesthetic it's so nice
> 
> ok lmk if there are typos in this chapter 
> 
> I hope you're all doing well. <3

The palace was incredible. Tommy spent many days wandering around it and admiring all the art and beauty. And there was no shortage of things to do. You see, all the servant’s families as well as the servants lived in the palace. So it was a lively place, always bustling with activity and talk. Well, all except for the throne room where King Fundy spent most of his time. That place was almost always empty with the exception of politicians and people on official business who came to work or talk with the king. And of course there were always some piglins or people in there, at King Fundy’s beck and call. But other than that there was nobody. _The fox must be lonely,_ thought Tommy one day, while sitting in the dining hall and eating something delicious. _I wonder what happened to the Queen._

He asked Dream. There was no reason not to anymore. 

“Y’a know the girl who we came to the Nether with? Don’t say her name,” said Dream. 

“With the blond hair? Whose husband got kidnapped?” Tommy asked to confirm.

“Yes, her.” 

“Yeah I know her, of course,” the boy said. 

“She was the Queen.” 

Tommy sputtered with surprise. “She was a _Queen?!_ What happened?”

“She was _the_ Queen, of Dry Waters, and married to Fundy. They ruled together for many years, but she was always unhappy,” Dream took a pause. “One day, she met a delivery man and fell in love with him. She ran away from the palace so she could be with him. They’ve been together ever since.” 

“Did she tell Fundy where she was going when she left?”

“She didn’t. She was afraid he would try to stop her. The King searched for many years, but eventually realized she simply did not want to be found, and he gave up.”

“King Fundy.”

“That’s correct. And he was never the same after she left. He became a little mistrustful, and a little lonely. He never remarried.”

“And we can’t say her name?”

“Out of respect, it is forbidden. We’re not even supposed to be talking about her. But it’s okay, you didn’t know,” he concluded. 

The boy thought about it for a minute. “She…” Dream turned to him, listening. “She gave it all up. Her life in the palace as a Queen. Why?”

Dream looked out a nearby window. “The same reason the trees are twisted and need no sunlight.” 

“Oh. But-”

“Enough questions, please. I don’t want to answer any more.” 

Tommy could respect that. “Alright,” he said. And left to go mind his own business. 

He was in the palace greenhouse admiring all the multicolored vegetation when a piglin approached him with something in his hand. The man snorted at him and handed him a piece of paper. Tommy nodded and the creature left. 

He looked down at the envelope in his hands. It was tinged a shade of blue. In scrawling handwriting on the cover was written the name _Tubbo._

He opened it and took out a letter. Here’s what it said:

_Dearest Tommy,_

__

__

You’re probably wondering about a lot of things right now in regards to me and the revolution. So I decided to send you a letter to clear things up. I saw you and that man run out of the ballroom that day we attacked, and one of my soldiers informed me that she had directed you two to Dry Waters. That’s how I knew where to send this letter. 

But don’t worry- I’ll forget your location almost as soon as I send this. You’ve done so much for me and my people that it’s the least I can do to respect your secrecy. Truely, it’s the least.

When you were apprehended on the way to Rutabagville I knew this was my one chance to find Schlatt’s fortress. Practically half the Nether has been scouring L’Manberg for months, but with no success. It was too well hidden. Many people had tried to perform petty crimes so they could get arrested and get taken to the tower, but most petty crimes (thievery, vandalism, ect.) would just land you in a local prison- not the federal one (which is located at Schlatt’s fortress). 

But you committed a federal crime! Tax evasion is considered a federal crime! And you were gonna lead me straight to the tower! I was ecstatic. Drista and I followed you on a hoglin, you led us right to it. It was a great moment.

I gathered my troops. We hid under red tarpaulin along the side of the building, and it blended with the ground well enough that as long as nobody walked past our hiding place they could not have found it. And Schlatt spared no guards for routine walk-arounds of the tower. So nobody ever walked past. We were hidden in plain sight. 

There were tens of us at the actual fortress, and hundreds more lying in wait at a nearby town. 

The next crucial step was finding a way in. We hid outside the tower for days looking for an in, and it was nothing but unsuccessful. The place was so heavily guarded and locked up tight. Our greatest hope was the window in the ballroom, and we were discussing ways to break through the thick glass. We didn’t have enough dynamite to get through it, and even if we did have that much dynamite, we had no way to get up there and rig it without being entirely obvious. Like, somebody actually suggested a helicopter. Props to that guy for thinking outside the box but what the hell, we do not have a helicopter or any means to get one. 

Some other guy said ‘ride on a ghast’ and it was so stupid and ballsy I wanted to promote him right then and there (I didn’t, but I could have). 

Looking back it’s honestly a miracle this mess of a revolution came through. 

So, where was I? Ah! We had to find a way to break through the thick glass. We spent weeks and came up with nothing- but no matter, I wasn’t planning on actually rushing the tower until backups arrived at another nearby town. But somebody clearly had other plans because while we were sitting out there, the glass cracked. I took the opportunity and fired an arrow into one of the cracks. The wall shattered. We rushed in.

Schlatt was completely unprepared. He had been president for so long, with so little political dispute, and he was so convinced that it would remain that way. He thought his little tower in the middle of nowhere was gonna protect him from justice. Wrongly so. 

There was a battle. Our side fought for a better future, and the other side fought for Schlatt. It’s clear which side had more motivation. I think it’s for that reason alone that we won. Schlatt’s men had more armory, weapons, and supplies than we did. But we had more people- and a reason to fight. We took the fortress in two days, and captured Schlatt. We won. 

I’m also president now. I knew it was going to happen if we were successful at taking the tower, and I planned to be successful, but nevertheless I’m still processing it. I just hope I make the right decisions. I hope that I’m a good and just leader. I will certainly try to be.

I’m not entirely sure if the shattering of the glass wall had anything to do with you, but I am going to assume you were somehow related to it- since the man who detonated the explosion was your companion. If that is true, then you were the most important and most useful person in the whole revolution. You led us to the tower and gave us a way in. If you were a member of my army, I would make you my right hand man and give you medals of honor, along with anything your heart desired (within reason). However, you are not a part of my army. And so I’m not sure what I can do to thank you. 

I’ll say this- if there’s anything you ever need, just ask. If you want to contact me look for anyone wearing the emblem stamped at the bottom of this page, and give them a letter. Tell them it’s for the president, and it’s from Tommy. 

I owe you one. 

_-Tubbo_

Tommy read the letter, then read it again. Then he looked at the symbol stamped at the bottom of the page curiously. It was a blue, black, and red emblem with three gold X’s arranged in a circle. He recognized it from the pin the Piglin who gave him the letter was wearing. It kinda looked like a reduced version of the L’Manberg flag. _That must be the symbol of the revolution. It’s similar enough to the L’Manberg flag that nobody would ever suspect it symbolizes rebellion, but different enough that it’s still easily recognizable. Clever, Tubbo, that’s clever. I think you will make a good ruler, despite it all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment down below and tell me about your day or somthin :) I wanna know you guys!!


	26. Another Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody how's it going. To all my loyal readers of the story: I have a lot more planned out for this fic. But! the daily updates are becoming a little difficult to keep up with. I am considering going on a hiatus after posting chapter 31. The break won't be more than a few weeks and then I will continue. 
> 
> Part of the reason for this hiatus is that I've recently become inspired to start another story, featuring technoblade and Dream. I won't give you too many details (because I'm not even sure if I'm gonna write it yet) but yeah. Another reason is because of school and stuff. The last reason is just because I would like a break lol
> 
> Like I said, it'll only be a few weeks! Then I will continue with the daily updates :) The break will start after chapter 31.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support and lovely comments you guys give me. This is my first long fic, and I feel so honored for it to have done fairly well. You guys are really the best. <3

The boy rushed from the greenhouse to his room. When he got there, he smartly put the letter and the emblem aside in a safe place- somewhere he couldn’t lose it- in case he should ever need to use it in the future. Then he searched the drawers until he found a pad of paper and an awkward looking writing utensil. He sat down at the desk, took a deep breath, and wrote:

_Dear President Tubbo,_

Congratulations on taking over L’Manberg. I’m glad I could help.

There’s only one thing I ask of you: When I was processed into the prison, a very special item got confiscated from me. It’s a simple silver compass. 

When it got taken from me, one of the security guards promised that he would keep it safe. I don’t know how honest he was being, but it seemed like he was genuinely going to make an effort not to lose or sell my compass. Or at least, he wasn’t going to throw it away. He was a nice man- comparatively. He showed me a little compassion. 

Please ask the guards if any of them has it. You could always tell them that they would be rewarded for handing it over, that way they wouldn’t have any incentive to keep it. And if you do find the man who kept my compass safe, be sure to treat him nicely. He’s a good man, probably. 

I know it’s just a compass, but it’s very important to me. I’ve lived a lot of life in the past few months and that compass has been with me for all of it. I would really like it back. 

If you get it back to me, then consider your debt payed. Likewise, if you ever are in need of something, you can always find me and I’ll be there to help you. 

Good luck with being President. I know you’re gonna do great. 

Your Friend, 

_Tommy._

P.S: Tell Drista I said Hi.

He looked over all he had written. Then he folded the letter inside another piece of paper, in a sort of makeshift envelope. Satisfied that the paper would not tear or fall out, he took it with him to go find the Piglin. Just before he walked out the door to his room he wrote his name on the envelope. _Tommy._

He found the Piglin downstairs sweeping a corridor. The creature snorted as he passed. 

“ _SnoooRT,_ ” said Tommy. The piglin mimicked the noise. Then the boy said: “It’s for the president, from Tommy.” The piglin seemed to understand. He took the letter from the boy’s hand and put it in his pocket. Then he continued sweeping. The boy had no real way to know if his letter was going to get to the fortress safely. He could only hope and have faith in this random piglin’s delivery skills. 

He was deep in thought- thinking about Tubbo, the letters, and his compass- as he started making his way back to his room. He walked down a hall then climbed up a tall spiraling staircase. Suddenly he collided with a slender figure moving the opposite way, and he had to frantically catch the man’s torso to keep him from tumbling down the stairs. 

“Sorry!” said Tommy. I wasn’t looking where I was- Oh,” He rushed to apologize for running into the poor fellow before he realized it was George. Then he sort of stopped and looked away. 

“It’s okay, kiddo,” said George. “You can put me down now.” Tommy embrassadly realized he still had his hands on George’s shoulders, trying to stop him from a fall that was no longer possible. He set the brunette down. 

“Everything okay?” asked George, picking up on Tommy’s odd behavior. “What’s on your mind?” he asked as nonchalantly as possible.

“I…” The boy began, as he took a seat on one of the steps of the staircase. The soft carpeting and the narrowness of the structure reminded him of the stairs on the cargo ship, from so long ago. He shivered at the thought and had to take a moment to compose himself. George, who had been around the boy for quite a while now, recognized the movement. He sank to the floor and sat beside the boy, then sympathetically patted his shoulders. Tommy smiled a little at the gesture, although George couldn’t help but feel it was insincere. 

“George, remember when Dream said we were perfectly hidden in this fortress? That nobody knew we were here?” Tommy began. George stopped moving his hand. 

“Yeah?” the brunette replied. 

“I think somebody knows we’re here.”

“Oh. Who?” George asked, turning his body so he was facing Tommy fully. 

“My friend. And the president of L’Manberg,” said Tommy distractedly.

George blanched. “Schlatt?” His tone was very serious. “Schlatt knows we’re here?”

“No! No, no, no. Not Schlatt, not Schlatt,” He quickly reassured. The other man put a hand on his chest in relief. “It’s Tubbo. He’s the new president of L’Manberg. And he’s very much on my side. Like, he kinda owes me one. We’re not in any danger from him.”

George thought about the words for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. He’s a good g- well, I don’t actually know if he’s a good guy. But he was nice to me. And he’s on our side, definitely. No, no danger.”

“Oh… Well, if you say so. Thank you for telling me,” said George. “Now, you’re not gonna believe what I found just a minute ago. In the closet of my room there’s an old TV set. Like a REALLY old TV set- one of those box-y ones?” 

Tommy nodded attentively. He remembered those old things from his youth. And it was a fond memory. 

“Well, yeah!” continued George, “There’s one of them in there- and it still works! I mean, I plugged it in and it turned on. Whether or not it actually plays movies is still up in the air. But there’s also a stack of DVDs and movies and stuff.” 

“Oooh,” said Tommy. “Anything good in there?” 

“I’m not sure. As soon as I saw them I ran to go get you.” 

“Oh… you… went and got me?” 

“Yeah! I figured you were gonna like something like that. So I was looking for you. We can watch something together, like back at the church-house. Does that sound nice?” George spoke so casually. 

“Yeah…” said Tommy. _This guy really seems to care about me. He cares about me. It’s-_ “Yeah!” The boy cut off his own thoughts. “Let’s do it. We can go look through them now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awww Tommy's overwhelmed by how much Dream and George care about him :,D It's so sweet!!


	27. Videos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! so I decided to write that dreamnoblade thing :) I don't know if ill finish it or post it but if I do I think y'all will like it. Its an enemies to lovers trope where basically dream and techno end up taking a love potion (it wears off in like a day, it's not permanent) and they find that they are a more powerful fighting duo when they're in love. I won't tell you anything else cuz no spoilers!!! but I think its gonna be decent. 
> 
> A few fun facts about myself (cuz like I said I wanna get to know y'all better):  
> -pumpkin spice lattes are my favorite drink  
> -I love Star Trek (the original series and the alternate original series, also the next generation)  
> -I love Scott Pilgrim vs the World  
> -English and History are my favorite subject (at the moment)  
> -I'm really into greek mythology   
> -I play the ukulele quite well  
> -my favorite color is cerulean 
> 
> well there you have it folks I appear to be a BasicWhiteGirlTM but whatever I'll embrace it xD
> 
> I hope you all have a lovely day :)

Back in George’s room, the brunette wheeled the old TV out of the closet and dusted it off with a towel. Tommy peered into the closet and looked curiously at all the old memorabilia and clothes that must have been left by the previous visitors, or it was Fundy's and he forgot that it was there. He admired a pearly-blue dress that must have belonged to an extravagant guest. The boy could imagine the festivities and dancing that took place at the Dry Water’s castle so long ago, but now the beautiful piece of clothing sat collecting dust, its shine slowly dulling. He tisked and patted the dress down, brushing it off. 

“There you go. Now, you’re fit for a queen!” he jokingly said to it. George glanced at him from his place in the living room, where he appeared to be wrestling with some cables. 

“The DVD’s are at the back,” the brunette called. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting to it! There’s too much cool stuff in here. I gotta look around first…” he ducked behind a rack of clothes and found an old aviator’s jacket lying on a box. The boy picked it up and felt the worn leather with his hands, then he tried it on. It fit perfectly. 

Ducking out of the closet, he stood before George with a dramatic wave of his hands. The older man looked amused. 

“What are you doing,” he asked.

“What do you think?” said Tommy, ignoring the question. “Do I look like an adventurer, or what? I think I look great.” The boy walked over to a full length mirror and admired his new find. 

“You better put that back, we don’t want to be stealing from Fundy.” 

“Aw, what? It’s not like he’s gonna notice. Plus, I’m almost 90% sure this isn’t his. It must have been left by a guest.” 

“Mmm, I don’t know…” 

“I’ll be subtle about it,” said the boy with a cheeky smile.

“Mmmm Alright. Just don’t let anyone see you take it,” George relented. Tommy did a little fist pump in the air. “Ya know, It’s not a bad look on you,” the older boy continued, “It kinda looks like the jacket Dream wore when he first arrived in Oregon.”

“Woah. Really?” 

“Yeah. But he doesn’t have it anymore- it got wrecked one night when it was raining and we used it for a bit of cover. In one of those early days, before we found the church house. I’ll bet he’s gonna be happy to see that. Might make him a little nostalgic.” 

“Aww, how sweet. I’m not giving it to him.” 

George snorted. “I wasn’t asking you to! Besides, it wouldn’t fit him anyways. Did you find those DVD’s?”

“Yes,” Tommy lied, as he ducked back into the closet and continued searching. He found the box tucked behind a bunch of pictures in their frames (pictures of Dry Waters, although they looked old. They must have been a prior room decoration or something) and in front of somebody’s old steel toe boots. He huffed as he picked up the unwieldy box and carried them out to where George was sitting. 

The two of them looked through the discs. Most of them were still in their cases, although the cases were all unmarked. Tommy disappointedly groaned when he couldn’t find anything that was obviously a movie, and George sighed somewhat apologetically. They ended up choosing a random disc and putting it in. 

George fussed with a bunch of buttons while Tommy sprawled out on the bed, doing his best to annoy the older man. George did not take the bait and instead masterfully got the old machine working. The screen turned blue and Tommy went quiet.

The two of them watched. 

It was an old TV show, but neither of the boys had ever seen or heard of it. It was in English but it was clear from a lot of the slang and scenery that it was filmed and produced in the Nether. 

“I didn’t know the Nether had a movie-production industry…” began the boy.

“Me neither. Come to think of it- they probably don’t. I bet this was filmed just as a display of wealth or something, you get what I’m saying? Like somebody wanted to prove their nation was just as developed as any overworld nation, and so they funded a movie.” George watched the screen with fascination, as the characters talked. A boy and a girl were marching through an ashy-gray wasteland, apparently arguing about something. It looked like it was gonna be a survival movie or an action movie. 

“Ohh, do you think? That’s kinda cool. Think that it’s a Dry Waters production?” the boy wondered. 

“Umm, I don’t think there’s any of that biome in the Dry Waters. But- it still could be,” the brunette responded. 

Tommy hummed in response. They continued to watch. At one point, Dream entered the room. He took one look at the two of them and said ‘you guys need popcorn,’ then he left. 20 minutes later he was back with three Coca-cola’s. 

“Oh! I thought you were gonna get popcorn?” George said as he scooted over on the bed, making space for Dream. Dream handed him and Tommy their drinks and they took them with thanks. 

“Yeah, apparently they don’t have that in the Nether. Corn can’t grow here, so it has to be imported, and it’s kinda expensive to do that- I mean, that’s why the guy in the kitchen told me. For all I know he could've just been not giving it to me. Bastard!” Dream answered as he cracked open his soda. It fizzed pleasantly. 

George gasped playfully at the use of the word. “You don’t know that! He could be telling the truth.”

“You’re right, you’re right. You’re always right, my dear,” Clay teased. 

“Oh- you-” The brunette stammered. “We outta kick you out! Me and Tommy were having a nice peaceful time in here before you came along. You’re trouble!” 

Tommy agreed. “Yep, nothin’ but trouble.” He stuck his tongue out at Dream for emphasis and George nodded proudly.

The blond man laughed heartily. “Wha-a-aT? I bring you Cola-cola and this is how I’m repaid? What is this!” 

“You’re making too much noise!” said Tommy. “George, get his ass!” The boy handed the brunette a pillow. He smacked Dream with a _thud._

“Wait! Wait, my Cola!” he cried, as George continued the barrage of attacks, with Tommy cheering him on over the man’s shoulder. 

“Truce!” Dream yelped from beneath a pillow. “Truce!!” 

George placed the pillow down at his side while Dream eyed him warily. “You should never attack a man when he’s called peace, Tommy. It’s bad etiquette.” He explained to the boy elegantly, as if this were simply a teaching lesson and Dream just so happened to be the unwilling subject. 

“Ah!” The boy matched George’s tone. “I see! Unless, of course, the man we are attacking is Dream. Then we can continue to attack him to our heart’s desire.”

“Spot-on, my boy!” said George proudly.

Dream’s protests were cut off by a loud noise from the TV. One of the main characters appeared to be dramatically shooting someone in the distance. They all turned to watch in relative peace once more. Tommy finally opened his drink and took a sip, appreciating the familiar and cinnamon-like flavor. It reminded him of the overworld. He smiled, a warm feeling in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey did you catch the tiny Jschlatt reference?? it was the steel-toe boots in the closet. 
> 
> see y'all tomorrow with another update :)


	28. The Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone :) happy Saturday!! anyone gonna tune in to watch epicSMP today? I might, or I might watch the VOD. I think it's gonna be cool. :D
> 
> Also Vietnamese food Is so good?? I think Pho might be my favorite food, like ever. its just so delicious with the noodles and broth and meat and vegetables like OOOH okay anyways
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy the chapter :)

They talked and watched more movies together. One of the films was a dramatic re-creation of the earliest Nether survivors, and what the story of how the nations were founded was. Dream yawned through the historical-fiction while George and Tommy watched with intent interest. 

“This is like watching a documentary. Who enjoys that?” the blond man complained as George shushed him. 

“It’s cool. Plus, Tommy doesn’t know this stuff,” George whispered. They subtly glanced at the kid, who was staring at the screen in wide-eyed wonder. That was enough to convince Dream, and they watched the whole thing. 

At one point Tommy put in one of the CD’s and Niki appeared on the screen. George frantically paused it and they all stared at the picture. It was definitely her. 

“You two are seeing what I’m seeing, right?” asked Dream. George and Tommy confirmed. 

“Wasn’t she the queen?” Tommy asked. 

“Yeah, years and years ago. Now her name can’t be spoken and all photo or video evidence of her is supposed to be gone. They must have just forgotten about this.” Dream marveled at the sight. Niki looked very pretty in that picture, wearing a bright blue ball gown, with her makeup and hair done fancifully. She was smiling- although Tommy thought the expression didn’t meet her eyes. Maybe it was just distorted through the recording. 

“We shouldn’t be watching this-” George moved to turn off, but the other two stopped him. 

“It’s not snooping! We’re not snooping,” Clay said as he halfheartedly tried to pin George down. 

“I didn’t say it was snooping! You said it was snooping. That means your subconscious knows that it’s snooping!” The brunette protested. 

“Pleaseeee!! I didn’t even know Niki used to be a queen until like, a few days ago! I’ve never seen her while she was queen! This could be my only chance.” The boy leapt up excitedly and tried to block George from reaching the TV.

“Oh! You traitor. Just a moment ago you wanted to kick Dream out, and now you’re on his side?” 

“I’m on his side because I really wanna see this! Pleaseeeeee we can turn it off if it gets to personal pleaseEEEE.” 

“Oh my God, fine! Just stop begging!” 

Dream and Tommy whooped triumphantly. 

The three of them re-settled on the bed as George resumed the video. 

Niki smiled and laughed lightly at something someone off-camera said. She waved to someone in a crowd that could be heard but remained unseen. Then she turned to whoever was holding the camera, her dress spinning flamboyantly as she did so. _Hey, I recognize that dress now! It’s the one I saw in the closet earlier, that was all pearly and blue and beautiful,_ The boy thought. _She must not have taken it with her because she left in a hurry, or something like that._

“She looks so different here…” the boy trailed off. Dream agreed.

“She looks more formal. Like a queen.” The blond man looked pensively at the screen. Niki continued to wave and greet guests with a practiced expression. “She looks fake.”

“Yeah,” said Tommy.

“She looks happier now.” 

“Oh, does she?” Tommy scrutinized the picture in front of him. “I guess I wouldn’t know. The only other time I had really seen her was when her husband was kidnapped. She definitely didn’t look happy then.”

“Oh, that’s true.” As if on cue, Niki spared a tired glance at the cameraman. 

Despite that, she was very beautiful. Her blond hair was done up in swirls and braids at the top of her head, with two strands left hanging down to outline her face. Her makeup subtly shined on her eyes and cheeks, giving her the look that the light was always catching on her face at the most perfect angle. Her lips were painted bright red and she had a pink blush which Tommy couldn’t tell if it was makeup or natural. She wore long white gloves and white shoes to match. And of course there was that blue dress that flowed at the bottom and hung from one shoulder. _Wow, that girl had everything. She really was living in luxury._ The boy leaned against George’s arm absentmindedly. Fundy appeared on the screen, dressed in royal clothing. _Must be an important event- if it’s being recorded AND the King is there._

The video went on, most of it just being Niki talking to people off-screen and occasionally waving. Not very exciting, if Tommy was honest. Fundy smiled at her with a lot of love in his eyes, and she did her best to match the expression and give him something genuine in return, but it was clear she couldn’t. Her eyes fell flat, and he saw it. Tommy sympathized as he watched the fox’s face lose it’s eager expression and adoring look. 

“Man, poor Fundy,” said the boy. “He looks so… burdened. Why couldn’t Niki just, like, pretend to like him or something.”

“I think she did for a while.” The brunette leaned forward a little. “Hoping that if she played the act for long enough she could fall in love for real. But no, it never happened. They just weren’t meant to be.” 

“Yeah,” Dream added, “She once told me that she hated life in the palace. I think she really just longed for normalcy. That was a part of why she left as well.” 

“Still!” Tommy protested. “Why couldn’t she have just dealt with it? I can’t understand that.” 

“You will when you fall in love with somebody,” said Dream. “It’ll make sense to you then.”

Tommy huffed, a little annoyed. _Yeah, yeah. We get it. You’re in a happy loving relationship with somebody who understands and cares for you. Big deal! Get over yourself._ The boy stood up abruptly. George and Dream looked up at him from their spots on the bed. 

“Where are you off too?” The brunette paused the video. 

“I’m heading downstairs. I wanna walk around a little.”

“Should we wait up for you?” 

“No, no, it’s okay.” The boy turned to walk out then hesitated. His voice and demeanor softened. He looked like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what or how to say it. The words escaped him and he sighed heavily. 

“Go have fun,” said the brunette, saving the boy from awkwardly trying to excuse himself. Tommy silently thanked the man. 

“Alright,” and he was out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we learn more about Niki's past :0


	29. An Enderman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!! I hope you're all doing very well :) 
> 
> I started working on that other fic, the dreamnoblade potion au. I have the first chapter up on my page- its called An Unending Brevity. I thought the title was cool because like,,, well if I tell you it'll spoil the story :) you're gonna have to go read it!! (jk jk don't feel pressured to do anything lol)
> 
> I have an AP Stats exam tmmr and I don't understand ANY of the material rip. I think im gonna spend the afternoon studying. although, I don't really mind doing that, because it makes me feel like an AcademicTM. I just put on a dark academia playlist and get some tea (or coffee) and wear dress shirt, and suddenly im not some foolish little high school kid studying for a test, (read next part in a dramatic victorian voice) but a Practiced Academic whose knowledge is KNOWN through all across Europe. (lmao)
> 
> I care about you guys :) I hope your day is good and the weather wherever you live is exactly to your liking. And your favorite shows are on the TV right now. and that your mental health is good <3

He left the palace for the first time since he got to it. Two piglins stood at the entrance with golden spears held across their body. They snorted abjectly at Tommy when he approached. 

“Um, hello,” said the boy shyly. “I just wanted to go out for a few hours and then come back. Is… that alright?” 

The piglins snorted at him and pulled back their spears. But, before he could pass, one of them grabbed Tommy by the jacket with a hoof-like hand. The piglin pulled something out of a satchel and thrust it out to the boy. It was a little medallion with the Dry Water’s emblem on it- a symbol of a tree with water being poured onto the base. Must have been a sort of entry token into the palace. Tommy took it and put it in his pocket.

“Be careful of the lava-lake,” the piglin kindly warned, then he pointed in a direction past the fog; supposedly where the lava-lake was. His voice had been low, nasally, and very thick. It had actually been fairly hard for Tommy to decipher the words at all. The boy’s eyes widened in surprise as he thanked the piglin, who released his hold on the jacket. Tommy scurried away and adjusted his sleeves. _I didn’t know Piglins could speak English. I mean, I knew they could understand, but I didn’t know they could speak it. I thought it was anatomically impossible or something. Damn._ The world continued to surprise him a little more every day. Each time Tommy thought he had seen it all he was abruptly reminded that no, he hadn’t. He scanned the view in front of him. 

To the left was a road that led down to a town very close to the palace. He knew this because of something he overheard a servant in the dining hall say. To the right was the path that led through the fog to the Dry Waters forest; he knew this because that’s the way he and Dream came. He decided to take the road that went to forest just because it was more familiar. Plus, he had seen plenty of towns and cities since he got to the Nether. The forest was something new. He set off. 

The path slowly got less paved the further he moved away from the palace. From where he was now he could turn around and see the structure in all of its shimmering glory, which he did at many moments. He reckoned he looked like a fool and hoped nobody with his worst interests at heart suddenly jumped out from behind a tree and stabbed him or something. But his fears were washed away by the wonder of the deep blue fog that could’ve been a wall for how solid and dense it looked. 

The natural border was close enough to touch, and he did, sticking his hand out into the color and swirling it through the substance. It acted like a cloud, dissipating a little when he waved through it and obediently moving away from his body when he took a step in. Suddenly blind to everything but the color, the boy awkwardly stumbled forward. Within a few moments he was on the other side of the border and staring out into a forest that was strange, cerulean, and twisted. He continued to follow the cobblestone path.

It’s true that the nether has no daylight cycles- but occasionally parts of the realm would shift darker or lighter than others. The boy strained to remember what Dream had told him about it, _It was just a natural change that came from the temperature of the area and how much it cooled down the lava blah blah blah, something else, something about bones, uh, oh boy._ Tommy swore he was listening! In his defense he might have been a little mentally preoccupied when the man told him. Whatever. 

In any case, it was clear that it was one of the darker times. The boy remembered it being a lot brighter out when they had first arrived. But he didn’t exactly mind this change, because it revealed another strikingly beautiful aspect about Dry Waters. 

Little particles drifted past his face- at first he thought they were fireflies. But upon closer inspection he realized that they were a type of spore or dust and were not alive. They glowed a delicate yellow and the forest was simply filled with them. They weren’t the only thing that glowed- the veins of the leaves of the trees and the cracks between the bark could be seen as well, clearly originating from the inside. It must have come from something these strange plants ingested and held within them. Perhaps it was a substitute for water. 

Wonder-filled eyes scanned the scene. He touched the medallion in his pocket subconsciously. _Wouldn’t want to get lost out here. Maybe I should turn back,_ the rational part of his brain cautioned. He ignored it and kept going. At this point he had to pick his way across the uneven cobblestone very slowly, because the rocks had been pushed up out of the ground by powerful roots and vines. The boy certainly did not mind, though, as he knelt beside a vibrant flower and touched the petals in fascination. 

As he was crouched over the strange vegetation he heard a noise like porcelain smashing into metal, interrupting the peaceful near silence of the forest. He jumped and fell forward, started, and looked up to see a pair of long black legs in front of him. He quickly bowed his head in fear. _An Enderman._ He had only ever seen a picture of one before. The book he read in the church house, all those ages ago, had a short page on the creatures. Red text flashed before Tommy’s mind; it was something written in large print at the bottom of the text about them. _DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT. THIS WILL AGITATE THE BEINGS._ The foreboding message was kind of a hard one to forget- but still he was glad he remembered it. He kept his head ducked down low.  
The legs didn’t move. He felt his back and neck prickle and suddenly his mind felt hot. Slowly a sound started from the beast, like a terrible and rust filled machine, steady and grumbling, and getting louder. It sent shots of fear down the boy’s back. He closed his eyes tightly and did his best to push away the rising panic in his chest. The boy felt his fight-or-flight response activate and try to take hold of his limbs and lungs. He breathed deeply and fought the urge to get up and dart away, not knowing how the enderman might react.

After what felt like forever, the noise settled. Tommy reopened his eyes, and the legs were still there. Silky, black, and inhuman, Tommy dreaded the thought of what the rest of the creature might look like. But- the sight also made him painfully curious. He couldn’t help himself. He spared a single glance. 

Purple eyes met with his for a second before he ducked his head back down. The boy recognized them, they had the same shade and qualities of the portal that brought him here. The being purred or snorted (Tommy couldn’t tell what the noise was) and continued to stare down at the human, almost daring him to look again. 

He couldn’t resist. 

He looked up again. 

The enderman locked eyes with him. Tommy couldn’t look away. It towered over the boy, who was still crouched on the floor. Slowly, the beast’s jaw unhinged itself. It shrieked, deafeningly loud and seeming to echo from all around. Tommy broke out of his trance and stood. He whirled around and moved to run away, but before he could the creature grabbed him and wrapped long lanky arms around his body. He screamed and started beating down on the long fingered hands that were grabbing him. The boy frantically wished he still had the iron axe that Dream gave him so long ago. _From protection, for snakes and the like,_ he remembered Dream telling him. This was definitely a lot more than a snake. 

He squirmed in the beast’s hold and twisted his head around to see a gaping jaw coming toward him. In a primal instinct of fear he yelled again and kicked his legs into the enderman’s torso. The being hissed in pain and Tommy used that moment of distraction to unwedge one of his arms. He flung it out toward the enderman’s jaw and hit him repeatedly, flailing all the while. 

But he was no match for the being. In less than a moment the enderman grabbed Tommy’s free arm and reeled it back in, then he strengthened his grip on the boy. He was rendered immoblile, helplessly kicking his feet as the enderman squeezed him tighter. He gasped for breath within the crushing grip. The creature moved his head forward again, supposedly to deliver a killing bite.

 _This is it,_ thought Tommy, calmly. _What a stupid way to die…_ Dark spots peppered his vision. 

Suddenly, the enderman wailed in pain and his arms loosened. Tommy heaved in a lungful of air as he was dropped to the ground. He coughed and sputtered as the enderman collapsed beside him. It’s body was sliced in two. Frantically shoving away the thing’s arms, he looked up.

Stood before him, gold-furnished sword in hand, was King Fundy.


	30. A Fox Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody!! Tomorrow's chapter will be the beginning of the hiatus.
> 
> I'm still gonna reply to all the comments, hiatus or no, and so we can still talk there :) 
> 
> I don't have much to tell y'all about, yesterday was pretty uneventful. I've mostly been working on that other story- An Unending Brevity. It got a lot more popular than I thought it was gonna be so im nervous to post the next chapter, I don't wanna accidentally donk up the dynamic. Also, I don't have a beta, so I'm proofreading everything myself (oof). But I'm having fun writing it!! and thats honestly what matters. I'm told if you enjoy writing something, then people will enjoy reading it, too. 
> 
> <3

Fundy stood above him in a hooded cloak with a bag strapped to his back. The cloak shifted in a breeze and illuminated a cool but not unfriendly pair of eyes. He returned the sword he used to kill the creature back to it’s sheathe, and then knelt beside Tommy.

“Hello, boy,” said Fundy. “Are you quite all right?” 

Tommy put a hand to his ribcage, which ached quite a bit, then took a moment to inspect his body for injuries. He found nothing fatal, and so replied “I’m okay. I- thank you.”

“Of course. I could not let one of my guests be slaughtered by an enderman. That would be bad etiquette, I think.” He picked up the boy’s hand and inspected it. It was bloody and bruised from punching the enderman’s tough, leather-like skin. And it shook slightly when the fox lifted it with his paw. “You gave that enderman a good fight.” 

“I would have lost.” Tommy winced and put his spare hand to his shoulder, feeling a set of cuts that must have come from the enderman’s nails. His hand returned red, emphasizing his point. 

“Anyone would have lost. Don’t you know that you aren’t supposed to look an enderman in the eyes?” Fundy also checked the boy’s shoulder. “Just some scratches,” the fox reassured him. He nodded in agreement. Fundy opened his bag and took out a small vile and a set of gauze. 

“What are you doing?” asked the boy, nervously. He met the fox’s eyes. 

“What, you don’t trust me? A man should have faith in a King.”

Tommy eyed him warily as the fox poured the contents of the vial onto the beaten up hand. The boy squirmed in pain as it stung momentarily. Then Fundy wrapped his hand with the gauze. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” The fox moved over to the enderman’s corpse. Without warning, he dug his fingers into the creature’s eye and reached behind its temple. Tommy exclaimed in disgust, and the fox laughed at the innocent reaction.

“What are you doing?” The boy demanded, sounding very caught off guard.

“You’ll know in a moment,” he coyly replied. He felt around in the enderman’s brain with a focused expression on his face. Suddenly he gasped happily, then pulled something out with two of his fingers. It was a little green orb coated in blue-ish purple enderman blood. The man wiped it off then showed it to Tommy.

“What is it?” said the boy, as he peered uncertainly at the object. 

“An ender pearl. It’s a special organ that gives enderman their ability to teleport. All of them have it, but sometimes it’s too far down in their brain to successfully retrieve. This guy had one that was fairly easy to get, luckily.” The fox-man put the pearl in his pocket, then offered out a hand to help Tommy stand. The boy took it graciously. 

“Why are you out in the forest, Lord Fundy?” 

“Ah, I like to come out here in my spare time. It’s quite beautiful. And it’s a reprise from mundane palace life,” Fundy set off in a direction and the boy followed him. The fox noted this with an amused expression. 

“It is really pretty out here,” replied the boy, looking out at the low hanging tree branches so beautifully illuminated. 

“Yes. Almost irresistible. Like an enderman’s deep-seated eyes.”

The boy looked sheepish. 

“You do know that had I not arrived at such a convenient moment, you would have perished? You should be more careful.” 

“Yes, I know. I’ll be more careful. I just couldn’t resist! They were so pretty,” Tommy trailed off, thinking wistfully of those purple caverns that seemed to hold something so complex and profound, yet just out of reach. “They have a very specific expression on their faces that I’ve never seen before.” 

“Yes,” Fundy agreed, ducking under a branch and glancing backward to make sure Tommy was doing the same. “Yes, that’s true. An enderman’s allure has killed many young and hot-headed people such as yourself. It’s part of what makes them so dangerous. I have a bit of that look in my eyes, see?” Fundy paused and faced the boy. Tommy squinted in the low light and looked closely at Fundy, gasping when he saw it. 

“You do!” the boy exclaimed. “You really do. How do you have that?”

“When you spend time around enderman and learn them and their ways, it happens to you. The look. It’s the same reason I can read minds a little. All very useful things to have when you are King.” 

“Woah… can you teleport too?” 

The fox laughed, shrill and hearty all at once. “No, not on my own. I’m still just a regular anthropomorphic fox, biologically.” 

“Oh.” Tommy wanted to ask how _that_ had happened, but he figured it would be rude. But since they had resumed walking and Fundy wasn’t making eye contact with him anymore, he figured he was safe to think about it. 

“I noticed you’re wearing my old jacket,” said the fox, without turning around. Tommy looked down at the leather aviator jacket he had taken from the closet, and he blushed.

“I’m sorry,” he began, “I didn’t realize it was yours. I thought it was abandoned by some prior guest.” 

“It’s okay. It suits you, truely. Besides, I don’t wear it anymore.” 

“Oh! Well, thank you.” Tommy exhaled, relieved at the King’s sensible reaction. “If I may ask, why not?” 

“It reminds me too harshly of old times,” said Fundy, and a certain darkness crept into his voice. 

“Oh.”

They walked in silence a little further. 

“What happens if you _eat_ an ender pearl?” Tommy asked, abruptly. 

Fundy laughed with surprise. “Eat an ender pearl? Where did that idea come from?”

“Well I mean, they’re like this super special thing that gives endermen their teleportation abilities, right?” The boy stumbled over a rock and Fundy put a hand out to stabilize him. 

“Yes,” the fox confirmed. 

“So do they have a cool effect on your body if you eat them?” 

“I don't think anyone has ever successfully eaten one. You know, because you would need to break it in order to eat it.” 

“Oh. Are they like, unbreakable?” 

“No, but when they burst you are immediately teleported to wherever the pearl is broken. So I think that at one point in the consumption process, the pearl would burst open, and you would awkwardly be teleported to the same location you are already in.” 

“Woah woah woah!” exclaimed Tommy, excitedly. “You can use them to teleport? That’s so cool!” 

Fundy couldn’t help but smile at the eager nature of the boy. “Yep! That’s why they are so valuable, and worth undergoing the gross process of harvesting them. That’s also why we don’t hunt the endermen into extinction. Because, as you know, they are pretty dangerous creatures- and they tend to show up whenever and wherever they want. So it would make sense to get rid of them. But we don’t for the sake of the pearls.” To emphasize his point, he took the pearl out of his bag and looked at it admiringly. Tommy went ‘oooh’ from over Fundy’s shoulder. Fundy put the object away. 

“Ah!” said the fox, “We’re here!” He marched forward and pushed aside a set of vines and branches to reveal a lake of molten hot lava.


	31. Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to anyone who is still reading this! 
> 
> Today marks the start of my hiatus. The break might be a few weeks or a month or so. 
> 
> I think my writing has gotten a lot better since the start of the fic and it's cool to scroll through the chapters and see how I progressed. I was using this fic as a sort of daily writing practice (and because I had a cool story to tell, and because I enjoy writing) and I think it's helped me a lot. Both emotionally and mentally, and in terms of my writing quality. It was just really nice to have something as a daily routine! And because of that I am definately coming back to this fic. 
> 
> I kinda made friends with a few of you, so if you ever want to chat just comment on this chapter and I'll say hi!! You can talk about whatever, tell me about your day, or anything really. Y'all can always reach me through here :)
> 
> Thanks for all the support u guys give me. I might be being dramatic about this, but your comments and kudos genuinely brighten my day. I'm excited to finish this story!!
> 
> after all, we can't just leave it here! There's so much left to do and see. Tommy's adventure is not over yet...
> 
> You guys are the best :) Much pog <3

The lava lake glowed with bright fiery colors, honey and amber and rose, and waves of heat seemed to radiate off of the strange fixture. It moved and flowed like water would- thats how blazing it was. The boy stared at the yellow and blue flames that leapt up at him from their place among the burning sea.

“Oh!” The boy cried out in delight. Then his voice turned soft with wonder. “Oh… One of the piglins warned me about this…” he whispered. 

“Yes. If you’re not careful and don’t know where it is, you can accidentally stumble right into it. It’s called the Last Lake, because it’s the last lava lake you can find before entering Dry Waters. There aren’t any others that way,” he pointed back in the direction of the palace, “Either because they’ve been filled up or just because they don’t naturally occur there.” 

“Wow. It’s kinda scary,” said Tommy, taking a place beside the fox.

“Hmm. Maybe to you and me. The Striders don’t seem to think so.” 

“Striders? Where have I heard that name before…” 

Fundy opened his mouth to answer, but before he could a high pitched _trillll_ came from somewhere out in the lava. Tommy jumped a little then looked out confusedly. 

The boy began: “Was that a… an animal noise? Out in the lava?” 

Fundy smiled his coy smile and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He crouched a little to be at Tommy’s eyeline. Then, he pointed at a distant point on the lake. Tommy followed where the hand was guiding him too, and his eyes widened when he saw it. 

An animal. Or something animal-like. Sitting out in the lava, a huge mass of red scales with two short legs that looked like they could barely support it (the creature rested in the shallow end of the lake) and a massive mouth that divided it’s face in half. Long whiskers that _had_ to be as tough as steel started at the sides of its head and stretched out several feet before elegantly dipping into the molten lava. Black little button eyes sunk deeply into its head. It’s skin seemed to droop around it like a blob-fish, and it’s mouth seemed to be permanently fixed in a smile-like position. It was eerie, and certainly a little ugly. But Tommy didn’t notice or mind, his stare was of pure curiosity and appreciation. 

One of the striders ducked its head under the lava, and the boy watched in fascination as folds of tough skin lapped up to cover the eye, protecting it from the searing hot liquid. He gasped again when he saw it, and excitedly patted Fundy’s arm. 

“It- They-” He tried to express his sudden scientific conclusion to the King, who seemed to understand. 

“Yes, I know,” Fundy calmly answered.

“They put the skin down over they eyes to make the lava no get into brain!” Tommy proclaimed, smacking a hand to his forehead. 

“Are you having a stroke?”

The boy snorted, then said, “But- what- how do they do it? How do they bathe in the lava like that? And it doesn’t hurt them?”

“The secret is their skin. It’s incredibly tough, and lined with Netherite. The natural substance stops them from burning alive, since it has a melting point higher than the temperature of even the hottest lava lakes. It keeps them safe.” 

“It’s amazing.”

“Yes.”

“Are they aggressive?” 

“Not at all. After all, nothing else out here really evolved to survive in lava. They’ve been isolated for so long, without any natural predators, that they’ve had no real reason to develop a fighting instinct. Their only visitor is the magma cubes which share the same habitat- and they eat those.”

“Poor magma cubes.” 

“It’s okay, those things aren’t very intelligent,” Fundy half-heartedly consoled. 

“Oi! Neither am I, but that certainly does not give anyone an excuse to snack on me.”

The fox-King laughed loudly and brightly. It was as genuine as Tommy had ever seen the man, and he smiled with his success. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep laughing. Just know if everyone thought like you I would have been gone long ago,” Tommy continued. 

The fox snickered. “You’re not that dumb.” 

“Am not that bright either! I’m unique,” he said, with a sort of settled confidence. 

“Well, that much is true.” 

They silently watched the lava Striders playing in the distance. It was both relaxing and frightening, to watch those beasts splash around in pure blazing heat without so much as flinching. It made Tommy wonder. 

“Fundy, Your Highness?” 

“Yes, dear Tommy?” 

“I…” he seemed uncomfortable with the question, but he pushed through anyways, “Why have you never remarried?” 

The fox tensed. _Oh jeez,_ thought the boy, _I goofed it now._ The boy opened his mouth to backtrack, but before he could Fundy answered him. 

“I do not know.” 

“O- oh. I…” 

“You know of the queen? Queen Nihachu?” 

“I know of her,” answered the boy tactfully, trying not to reveal too much (for Niki’s sake). 

“Well, we ruled together for many years. She was not only my wife, but my advisor and partner. I cared for her so deeply.” 

Tommy awkwardly looked down when he heard the admission. The fox King had been so cool and collected for most of their meeting, but with those words his voice broke. It made Tommy feel for him.

Fundy cleared his throat and carried on. “Yes, I cared for her very deeply. When she left it was difficult. Although, I suppose I can’t blame her for leaving. I wasn’t a good husband.” 

“What did you do?” 

“I tried too hard to keep her pinned down. Pinned to me. I made her feel like she had to be perfect all the time when I should have just accepted her the way she was. It was my own fault, and I’m bitter for it.”

Tommy kicked the ground with his foot. “It’s okay, my Lordship. It really is. You messed up, but it’s over now. It’s…”

“It’s in the past?” said Fundy sharply. “Yeah. It really is, isn’t it. Safely tucked away in the past where I can’t get to it and I can’t do anything about it. It’s great.” He sat down on the dirt with a thump. Tommy sat next to him, the heat of the lake warming him up. There was a long pause. 

“I know how you feel. I know how you feel exactly.”

“How can you? You’re just a boy.” 

“I am, but I’ve lost. Just like you have. My family. And my friend.” 

The fox’s tone softened significantly. “You… you have. Dream and George said they were looking after you, didn’t they. I really didn’t think much of it at the time, but I guess that means something happened.” 

“Yeah, something happened. My parents died. And my friend died to save me. I’ve never told anyone this, Lord Fundy, but not a day goes by where I don’t think of them. I’ve tried so hard to move on.” 

“I see.” 

“I _want_ to move on. I just can’t. Like how you are with the queen.” 

The fox hesitated for a moment, thinking deeply about it. Then he responded. “...Yes.”

“Dream and George have been good to me. I’m so lucky and grateful to have found them. But my gratitude doesn’t- it doesn’t-”

“It doesn’t make you feel any better. It doesn’t take away the loss.”

Tommy looked down at his hands and fumbled with the edge of his jacket. “Yeah.” 

“I understand you well, dear boy. In fact, I believe your pain might be greater than mine. It has humbled me.” 

The boy chuckled bitterly. “Do you feel grateful? Grateful that it wasn’t worse for you?” 

“Yes.” 

“And does it make it any better?”

“No,” he put an arm around Tommy’s shoulder and fought the urge to bring him to his chest and hold him there tightly. “No it doesn’t. You know that as well as I do.” 

Tommy, overwhelmed with the idea that someone might understand him so fully, leaned into Fundy’s embrace. The fox held him and stroked his hair, murmuring soothing nothings. The boy didn’t even know he was crying until he reached up to rub his eyes and found his face was wet. 

“I’m sorry for crying all over you, Your Majesty,” mumbled Tommy. 

“It’s okay.” 

They stayed like that for a while, watching the lava ripple and swell as light started to befall on Dry Waters. The striders at the far end of the lake swam peacefully.

“Fundy?” The boy spoke. 

“Yes?” The fox’s voice was gravelly.

“Do you think that maybe I could sometimes come and visit you? Here in the palace?”

“You are always welcome here.”

The boy stood, then offered a hand to help Fundy stand. “You’re always welcome at our place in Oregon, too.” 

“Thank you, dear boy.” Fundy took the hand, stood, then brushed himself off. “Now- let’s head back. I’m sure Dream and George are worried about you.” 

They went back to the palace.


End file.
